Looking for Normal
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: Reunited at Hogwarts five years after the Final Battle, Draco and Hermione learn to overcome past demons.
1. Chapter 1

New story! I own nothing! Enjoy!

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Chapter 1

"I can do this," Draco Malfoy insisted, standing in front of the Headmistress's desk. "I want to do this, Professor McGonagall. Please, just say you'll consider it."

Every day for the past week, the former Slytherin found himself in the same position - begging the head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for a job. He had been in prison when he took and passed his N.E.W.T.s and was granted his diploma. Branded a Death Eater, he had found it difficult to find work upon his release, and he needed to work. The Ministry had seized the Malfoys' money, property, and assets, leaving them practically penniless. While his father was in prison, his mother needed him to provide for their small family.

"I just...I'll do anything, Professor," he continued. "I know my past mistakes, and I take complete responsibility for them. I've hurt a lot of people, and I've tried to make amends with as many of them as possible. Please, just give me a chance. I'll clean the lavatories if I have to."

Stern, strong, and powerful, Minerva McGonagall cracked a small smile at the thought of the notorious pureblood scrubbing toilets. "I'll find you something, Mr. Malfoy," she promised. "However, there is one person in this castle who you'll need to speak with before I allow you to take a permanent position. If she's uncomfortable with your presence, I'll have to ask you to seek employment elsewhere."

Draco made his way from her office to the Transfiguration classroom, knowing he would find Hermione Granger there. Standing in the doorway, he watched her move around in a flurry, setting up her classroom for the upcoming school year. It was her first year as a professor, and he was sure she was anxious if her ever-expanding hair was any indication. Clearing his throat softly, he got her attention. "Granger," he said.

Brown eyes narrowed and hardened at the sight of him. "Out."

"Please, just hear me out," he said, keeping his distance. "I've come to ask the headmistress for a position, but was told I need to talk to you first. I don't know how to say it though. An apology doesn't seem good enough."

"I don't want it," she interrupted. "Please leave."

With a heavy sigh, he nodded and turned to leave. "Wait," he said. "I really need this job, whatever job she can give me. We can keep our distance, can't we? It's a big castle. We'll probably never see each other."

She had read of his family's financial troubles in the paper, and a small part of her felt bad that the life Draco had once known was gone. It didn't erase the years of bullying and teasing and hexing though, and she didn't feel ready to forgive him. "How do we do that?" she inquired. "Meals, staff meetings, school gatherings, we'll both have to be there. There's no keeping apart."

Draco nodded, nervously pushing away his blond hair from his eyes. "I guess you're right," he replied. "I'll let McGonagall know I'll look elsewhere."

"Where?" she asked as he began to walk away. Turning back, he grinned at her as she toyed with her curly hair. "I mean, do you have other options?"

Frowning, he shook his head. "I'll find something," he said hopefully. "Something in Diagon Alley maybe. One of the shop owners might be hiring. Anyhow, it was nice seeing you, Granger."

"Take it, Draco," she advised. "You need the job. I don't want to be the reason you can't find work."

After thanking her, Draco left her classroom. After a brief stint with the Ministry of Magic, Hermione left to pursue a career in education. The position of Transfiguration professor had opened, and she immediately applied for it. A short conversation with her former professor was all it took, and she quickly accepted the job. She had thought, now that the war was over, that Hogwarts would be a safe, accepting, welcoming environment. With Malfoy back, she feared that her picture perfect Hogwarts was not to be.

With her classroom set up, she left for the Herbology greenhouses. Neville needed to know the latest developments. He had borne the brunt of Draco's bullying far more than she had, and he needed to know that Malfoy was back. "McGonagall is really hiring him?" Neville Longbottom asked, fiddling with the leaves of one of his plants. "You're okay with this?"

Few knew what had happened at Malfoy Manor just a week before the final battle commenced. Neville knew. "I don't know," she replied. "It's been five years. I should be over it by now, right? I should be over it, Neville."

"No, you shouldn't," he argued, his voice soft. "If you're not ready to be over it, you don't have to pretend you are. If you're not comfortable, tell McGonagall. Tell him to look for work someplace else. Malfoy doesn't have to work here."

"He needs the job, Nev," she replied. "Who else is going to hire a former Death Eater with a prison record?"

Neville shook his head. "It shouldn't be Hogwarts." Hermione nodded in agreement, knowing he was right. "So, what are you going to do?"

Sighing, she said she didn't know. "He seemed different," she shared. "He didn't call me names or make fun of my hair. He smiled, apologized, said it was good seeing me. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, but seeing him brought it all back. What if it comes back every time I see him?"

"I'm here," he assured her. "If anyone is going to have your back here, it's me. We're Gryffindors, we can be counted on for loyalty."

Smiling, she hugged him and said she would see him at dinner. She made her way back to the castle and her rooms. Next door, she heard voices, familiar voices. Shutting the door, she leaned against it, attempting to control her breathing. Draco would be living next door to her.

A small yelp passed her lips when she heard a knock. Turning, she unlocked and opened the door. Draco stood in the hallway, attempting to smile. "Hi, um, I know I said I'd keep my distance, but it looks like I can't," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just...is this okay?"

Letting out a shuddered breath, she looked away. "Look, you don't have to try to make amends with me," she told him. "Just do your job, and let's never talk about that night. Ever."


	2. Chapter 2

I promise answers are coming in the next chapter! One reviewer requested witty banter, and I can say that there will be witty banter in the story. Well, at least what I consider witty banter. I'm one of those "thinks I'm funnier than I really am" kind of people.

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Chapter 2

Hermione sat in the Weasley family's kitchen, shucking peas and listening to the conversations around her. Her mind was on Hogwart's apprentice to the newest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who lived in the staff quarters next to her own. Her task forgotten, she rubbed her right arm, once again feeling the pain of the blade that had carved mudblood into her skin half a decade ago.

"I can't believe McGonagall would hire that git," she heard Ron Weasley say. Quickly, she glanced at her friend, eyes wide and breath shallow. "She's gone batty, I tell you. It's like she's forgotten who he is and what he's done. Merlin, the Death Eater spent a year in Azkaban, and now he's allowed around children? So he can, what, teach them his twisted beliefs? And he's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts? What better place for a Death Eater!"

"Ron, stop," Harry muttered, catching her eye. They didn't know the truth. Harry and Ron had been locked in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor while she was tortured for information. They had probably heard her screams. They had probably heard her beg for mercy. They hadn't heard Bellatrix Lestrange though. And Hermione never told them about it.

"No, don't stop on my account," Hermione said, leaving the table. "I have to get back to work. Lots of papers to grade."

Harry's brow furrowed. "You've assigned homework the first week of school?" he asked. "Man, you're tough."

Flashing a small smile, she stepped into the fireplace and returned to Hogwarts. Back in her rooms, she gathered her worked and took the long walk down to the lake. The wind was gentle enough to not stir her papers and the sun hid behind the clouds. It was perfect and peaceful, but it didn't last.

"Looks like we had the same idea," Draco commented, standing over her. "Um, I can find someplace else to work though."

"No, it's fine," she decided. "There won't be too many more perfect days here. Might as well take advantage of it while you can."

He nodded gratefully and sat down, making sure to put enough space between them so Hermione would be comfortable. They worked in silence until Draco finished. Instead of leaving, he watched her. Her brow would furrow as she read over her students' essays, shaking her head at the simplest mistakes before making notes in the margins. "Reckon you're tougher on the kids than McGonagall was?" he asked.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and shrugged. "It's not my job to go easy on them," she replied, moving on to lesson plans. "We're preparing these children for the future. I don't want our world run by people who barely passed their O.W.L.s because they had an insufficient education."

"I wasn't suggesting that it's wrong to be tough," he said. "My classes were given homework the first day too. I was just curious where we stack up against our old professors. It's crazy, isn't it? The last couple of years here, I couldn't wait to leave, to never have to come back here. Everything that happened, everything I did, I thought it would be better to be anywhere but here. Now, it feels like being back home. Is that crazy?"

Sighing, Hermione set aside her work and stared at the Black Lake. "A bit," she conceded. "It's definitely strange to be here again, and not just because I'm standing on the other side of the desk. There are a lot of memories here."

Draco nodded in agreement as he fiddled with the blades of grass beside him. "You know, I really am sorry for everything that happened," he told her. "I regret every single thing I did back then, and especially what I did to you."

Suddenly, she gathered her papers and got to her feet, leaving behind a confused Draco. "I don't want to talk about it, Malfoy," she said as he followed her. "I told you we were never talking about it. Why would you bring it up?"

He caught up to her when they reached the front doors. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said softly. They stood close, but he made it a point not to touch her. "I just...I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say."

Taking a deep breath, she accepted her apology and went to the staff quarters alone. Entering her bedroom, she pulled back the blankets, kicked off her shoes, and got into bed. She would only allow herself a few minutes to cry before getting on with life. With the blankets pulled over her head, she allowed the tears to flow.

When time was up, she dried her eyes, got out of bed, and joined the staff and students for dinner. Taking her usual seat, she surveyed the staff table. Draco was the only one missing. "Looks like he's finally keeping his promise," Neville muttered as he filled his plate. Hermione said nothing as she poked at the piece of chicken in front of her. What little appetite she had had was gone, and she had no idea why.

"I'm not feeling well," she excused, pushing back her chair. "I'll be in my room if you need me, Nev."

He let her go with a worried look, but said nothing as she left. Returning to the staff quarters, she knocked on Draco's door. "I'm done," she said when it opened. "If you were avoiding me, you can go eat now."

"I'm not hungry," he admitted. Shrugging, she turned toward her rooms. "Granger, wait. Just...are we ever going to be okay?"

Sighing, she leaned against the cold, stone wall. "I don't know, Malfoy," she replied tiredly. "Part of me wants to say yes because we need to be, but the other part keeps reliving that night."

He invited her into his rooms and poured two tumblers of firewhiskey. "I do too," he confessed. "Every night since it happened, in fact. I may have been a spoiled, rotten, bullying git, but I never wanted to hurt anyone. Knowing I hurt you...I just can't get over that."

"You hated me," she reminded him, sipping her drink.

Draco shrugged. "Yeah, because you're smarter than me and better at magic than I am," he said. "I was raised to believe I'm supposed to be better than people with your heritage, and then you show up and prove me wrong. You...confused me. It doesn't excuse my behavior, I know. And I know you don't want to talk about it, so I am yet again sorry for bringing it up."

"Aside from us, Neville's the only one who knows," she shared. "I never planned to tell him, or anyone, but he found me crying in my room the first night I arrived here. I've kept it a secret for five years."

"Why?" he wondered.

Staring at her firewhiskey, she replied, "To protect you."


	3. Chapter 3

Today feels like a drink wine and stare at pictures of Joe Biden kind of day. Unfortunately, I'm at work so I can only do the second thing. My boss did give me a great tip for day drinking, but I feel like she'd be suspicious if I walked around with a Sprite bottle all day. By the way, that's the tip - white wine in a Sprite bottle. I take no responsibility for anyone getting drunk at noon!

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Chapter 3

 _To protect you._

Draco couldn't understand why she felt compelled to protect him. "You were forced into your situation," she continued. "That's why I didn't tell anyone. You didn't deserve to be in further trouble."

Disturbed by her ability to compartmentalize, he merely nodded. "What do you see more - Bellatrix or me?" he wondered.

"Her," she replied, holding out her glass in a silent request for a refill. "Bellatrix I knew could do some real damage."

Laughing, he sat down beside her, sarcastically thanking her. "I'm a lover, not a fighter, Granger. You should know that by now," he remarked. Rolling her eyes, Hermione snorted. "I've never wanted to hurt you."

"No?" she asked. "Not even when the Chamber of Secrets was opened?"

Though his cheeks reddened, his gray eyes were filled with curiosity. "How did you know about that?" he inquired. Blushing, she mumbled something about having her ways.

"You know, that cut never quite healed," she said. "Big scar on my leg, thanks to you. I've always wondered why you did that."

"Better than the alternative," he muttered, draining the contents of his glass.

Brow furrowed in confusion, she handed him her empty glass and stood. "You should really eat something," she said as she moved toward the door.

"So should you," he called after her as the door closed behind her. Alone, he stewed in booze and his thoughts. Closing his eyes, he saw her capture all over again. Somehow, the Golden Trio had gotten the Sword of Gryffindor and his aunt was hellbent on discovering how. It belonged in her vault, she had insisted, and she demanded to know how it came to be in their possession. Hermione, bleeding and sobbing from knife cuts and several rounds of the Cruciatus Curse, had no answers. She was given to him to "coax" out the answers. He knew what it meant, but couldn't do it. He wouldn't hurt her. Instead, he cut her leg to make it look like he had committed the despicable act they thought would work.

He remembered how she shook in his arms, dreading what would happen to her. Taking her to an empty guest bedroom, he had placed her on the bed and warded the room against intruders. "Rip the button off of your pants," he instructed. Curled in a fetal position, she stared at him fearfully. "I have no intentions of doing to you what they want me to do to you. I just need to make it look like I did. Do it, or they kill us both."

Her hands shook as she pulled the button loose from her dirty jeans and handed it to him. Pointing his wand at her leg, he cut a quarter inch laceration that bled into the fabric of her pants to make it look like he had taken her virginity. Lifting the wards, he told her to scream. It was hoarse, but effective. "I'm so sorry, Granger," he murmured, sitting beside her. He placed his hand over the wounds on her arm and leg, hoping to stop the bleeding. Letting go of her leg, he pulled out his wand. "I have to plant some memories, just in case my aunt checks. Please...just don't hate me for this."

Blood was smeared on her clothes and face before she was returned to the main drawing room and Bellatrix Lestrange. Draco had watched her the whole time, rebuking his mother's comfort, as his aunt scoured her memories to no avail. It wasn't until Harry Potter and Ron Weasley broke out of the dungeons and escaped with Hermione that he breathed.

Putting down his glass, he left his room. Once in the hall, he pounded on her door. Hermione stared at him with wide eyes when the door opened. "Um, long time no see?" she muttered.

"Look, I just need to know that we're okay," he said hurriedly. "I want to know that we can get along here. I don't expect your forgiveness for what's been done, but if there's anything I can do to make you more comfortable-"

"Draco," she interrupted, "just stop for a minute. I've told you already that I'm okay with...this, with being colleagues. I appreciate the drinks. I just...we were never friends. I don't know that now is the time to start."

Hanging his head, he mumbled a good night and returned to his rooms. That night, he stared at the ceiling until the sun came up the next morning. Exhausted and disoriented, he spent the morning lessons in a daze. When noon rolled around, he received a surprise visitor.

"Staying in here all day, not teaching the kids anything?" Neville asked, leaning against the door frame. Draco looked up briefly, frowned, and resumed his reading. "Is this about Hermione? She told me about last night. You really think she'd forgive you and be your friend after everything you did?"

"It's not what you think," he mumbled, closing the textbook.

Neville snorted. "You should still be in Azkaban," he muttered. "Why Hermione felt the need to protect you I'll never know."

"I didn't hurt her," Draco insisted. "I'd never hurt her. I did what I had to do to save the both of us. She told you about that night, right? What if I told you it didn't happen the way she thought it did?"

Dark brows furrowed as Neville moved into the room, taking a seat in front of the desk. "What does that mean?" he asked.

Taking a deep breath, Draco finally told his side of the story. "I couldn't do it," he said. "For all the animosity between us all those years, when I finally had the chance to hurt her, I couldn't. I didn't want to. I made her think I raped her, Neville. For five years, she's walked around with memories of me doing something so vile and disgusting to her, and I understand why she hates me."

"Tell her the truth," Neville advised. Snorting, the blond shook his head. "She might believe you, and even if she doesn't, at least you've gotten it off your chest. Eventually she'll come around to believing you."

"And if she doesn't?" Draco wondered. "I was trying to protect her by planting those memories. What if I can't reverse them? What if she never believes me?"

Sighing, Neville shrugged. "Then she doesn't," he replied. "At least you know she'll know the truth. I think she'll believe it though."

Reluctantly, Draco agreed, hoping to all the gods that Neville Longbottom was right.


	4. Chapter 4

I finally watched "Orange is the New Black" and I'm hooked. If only the next season weren't so far away...

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Chapter 4

It was half past four in the morning when Hermione awoke in a cold sweat. Opening her eyes, she half expected to see Bellatrix Lestrange standing over her with a knife and wand in hand. Throwing back the blankets, she left her room, knowing sleep would not return that night. Exiting her quarters, she knocked on Draco's door, deciding it was his fault that she couldn't sleep.

"Entertain me," she said when the disheveled, half asleep blond opened the door. Mumbling, he told her to piss off and attempted to close the door. "I saw it. I just...I wanted to be with someone who was there too."

Relenting, he widened the door and invited her in. "Do you want to talk about it?" he wondered as she sat down on the edge of the sofa.

But she didn't. "Why haven't you been around today?" she asked instead. Draco shrugged, taking a seat on the floor. "Were you hungover?"

Laughing, he assured her that wasn't the case. "No, I just...wasn't in the mood for people," he replied. "I have to put up with the kids, but even in classes I couldn't focus. It happens sometimes. Talking about the war usually brings it on. Talking about that night with you yesterday sort of exacerbated it. Not that I blame you. It's just something I sometimes can't help. Punishment, I guess."

"What's my reasoning then?" she muttered.

"That would be my fault too," he reasoned.

The pair lapsed into silence. Hermione placed her head on the armrest and watched Draco lie down on the floor. "Have you ever thought about removing those memories?" she wondered.

He considered her question for a moment, giving it a lot of thought before responding. "I don't know that I deserve to forget," he confessed.

"That's poor logic," she mumbled as her eyes closed. He said nothing, waiting for her to fall asleep. He whispered her name, hoping she didn't hear. Slowly, he rose from the floor and gently lifted her off the sofa. His steps were soft as he carried her to his bedroom and placed her on the bed. When she was tucked in and he needn't worry about disturbing her, he went to sleep on the couch.

It wasn't long before he heard her scream. Running into his room, he found her sitting upright, eyes fearful and spine ramrod straight. "Hermione, it's alright," he said, moving toward the bed in hopes of calming her. "It was just a dream. It's over."

Teary brown eyes settled on him. "Get away from me," she cried. "I'm not going to let you hurt me again. Get out, Malfoy."

Hands raised, he slowly backed away until he was out of the room. His heart pounded as he sat down, cupping his face in his hands. What had happened? What was her dream about? Her reaction to seeing him was frightening, but he knew she was more afraid of him now. He had no idea what to do.

It was hours before the bedroom door opened and Hermione emerged, but kept her distance. "Maybe putting you in my bed was a bad idea," Draco said, setting a cup of coffee down on the end table for her. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

She nodded as she walked toward the door. "I, um, should go," she mumbled.

They parted without another word. Draco showered and dressed, then made his way to the greenhouse. It was Saturday, and he was grateful that he wouldn't have to deal with the students. "Can we talk?" he requested.

Neville set down his shears and pulled off his gloves. "About Hermione?" he guessed. Nodding, Draco took a seat and told him about the night before. "Is she alright? Where is she?"

Draco assumed she had returned to her rooms. "What are you going to say?" he wondered, following Neville back to the castle.

"The truth," Neville said angrily. "If you're too scared to do it, I'll tell her myself."

Draco stopped in his tracks, and watched the Herbology professor walk faster until he disappeared behind the castle doors. It was better, he decided, if it came from Neville. At least Hermione didn't hate him. So long as she knew the truth, he didn't mind hiding like a coward.

He had no idea how long he had sat by the lake when Hermione found him. The anger in her eyes would have frozen the Whomping Willow in its place. "Five years, Malfoy," she said through clenched teeth. "I've lived with this for five years, feeling unclean and broken. You let me go five years feeling that way. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he murmured. "I thought...at the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. I wasn't thinking of the long term. I wasn't thinking about what would happen to me after the war when my side lost. Protecting you was all that mattered. Keeping you alive was all I cared about."

"Why?" she demanded.

"Because Potter needed to win, and he needed you to do that," he said angrily. "We may have hated each other as children, but I wasn't dumb enough to believe that the Death Eaters belonged in power. I lived it while you three were on the run. I saw what it would be like living in that world. I mean it when I apologize to you for what I've done, but it wasn't another attempt to torture you, Granger."

His words were like a punch to the gut. "You could have written," she said.

"And you would have believed me?" he wondered.

With a huff, she admitted that he was right. "You still should have tried," she muttered.

Draco nodded. "I should have," he agreed. "I didn't think you'd ever speak to me again, and you said so yourself that you would never have believed me. It shouldn't have come from Neville, but I'm sort of glad it did. At least you like him."

"I don't hate you," she told him. "I used to, and then I just pitied you. I tried hating you after that night, but I couldn't. I felt bad for you, Draco. In my memory, you did this horrible, unforgivable thing to me, and in any other situation, I would have wanted you dead. This one, though, it's like I said the other day, I felt this need to protect you."

Sighing heavily, he looked up at her. "So, where does this put us?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "Just...give it time."


	5. Chapter 5

Does anyone know this asianfanfics site? I got a review for _Accidental I Do_ yesterday that said one of the authors there had copied my story word for word and changed the names. I joined so I could contact the author about it, but haven't gotten a reply yet.

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Chapter 5

Harry Potter wandered the halls of Hogwarts, searching for the staff quarters. As a student, it never occurred to him that the rooms existed. The Marauders' Map came in handy for the first time in five years as he used it to track Hermione's movement.

She had sounded upset the last time they spoke, and he made it a priority to clear his schedule for a visit. The war had changed his best friend, but then again, most of the people who fought it could say the same. Hermione had always been one to bottle up her feelings, and that hadn't changed over the years. What had changed was her behavior towards her friends and family. She became quiet and withdrawn, often cancelling plans at the last minute. After all she had been through, Harry understood. That she had called, asking him to visit, was cause for concern.

He found her rooms and knocked on the door. When she didn't answer, Harry grew worried. The map clearly showed that Hermione was there. Moving to the next door, he knocked. "Where's Hermione?" he asked when Draco opened it.

Draco looked down at the yellowed parchment in Harry Potter's hand. "Next door," he said. "Why?"

"She's not answering," Harry told him.

There was panic in Draco's eyes as he pushed past Harry and unlocked Hermione's door. "Don't tell her I can do that," he requested, letting Harry into Hermione's quarters. He turned to leave when Harry grabbed his arm.

"Are you the reason she's upset?" he asked. There was no hint of anger or malice in his voice, just concern for his friend. Sighing, Draco nodded and left. Closing the door behind him, Harry moved through the main room and into the bedroom. The room was dark, but he was able to make out a shape beneath the blankets. Pulling them back, he slid into bed beside her. "Talk to me, Hermione."

Rolling over, she faced Harry. "I've missed you," she whispered, smoothing back his dark locks from his green eyes. "I'm sorry I've been such a lousy friend lately."

"That's not why you're upset," he replied.

"There's something I never told you," she admitted. Harry wiped tears from her cheeks as she recalled the night Snatchers had brought them to Malfoy Manor. "Draco saved my life that night. I just...those memories he put in my head, I can't reconcile that."

"Does it help at all to know that it didn't really happen?" he wondered. "Is there even some small part of you that feels relieved that these are false memories? As much as I hate what you've gone through and the way Malfoy's acted since we met, I have to say I'm glad he did what he did. It kept you alive. It brought you back to us."

"And that excuses five years of suffering?" she guffawed.

"He was locked up for a long time," Harry reminded her. "It would have been difficult to reverse the charm with him in prison and you in Australia. Is he going to reverse it now that you've been reunited?"

Shrugging, she admitted that they weren't talking. "The crazy part is it was easier to talk to him when I thought he'd done...that to me," she told him. "As if lying to me is worse somehow. What are the chances the Cruciatus has had a delayed effect on me, and I'm just going crazy now?"

Laughing, he promised that he didn't think that was true. "I've always thought you were a bit crazy," he teased. "All those books and reading for fun and homework doing. There's never been anything normal about you."

For the first time in days, Hermione laughed. "So, should I forgive him?" she asked.

"I think you want to," Harry replied. "I think he did what he thought he needed to do to protect you, the same way you did for your parents. They forgave you. Granted, the memories you implanted were a bit happier, but the situations were different. Still, if you want to forgive him, do it. From what you've said, he's been beating himself up about this for five years." Nodding, she tossed aside the blanket and got out of bed. "You're doing it now?" he asked, laughing at her attempts to find a pair of pants in the dark.

"I'm done sulking," she informed him, returning to what Harry considered her normal self. "It's not because of what you said, just so you know. I just...I'm done."

"Are you taking my advice?" he asked, sitting up.

Turning around, she smiled at the man in her bed. "I am," she said. "You know, the rational side of me understood. It appreciated what he did for me. The emotional side uncharacteristically took over though. As if what he really did was worse than what I thought he did. And, Harry, he's apologized profusely. Every time he's seen me he tells me he's sorry. I think saying it to him is the least I can do."

"Yeah, but now?" Harry asked, following her to the main room. "I thought you were giving your best friend a little attention today. It's been too long since we've spent any time together, and you live next door to Malfoy now. You can see him whenever you want."

"That was quite a guilt trip," she remarked, pulling on a sweater. "Did you get airline miles with it?"

"And a free hotel stay," Harry added as she opened the door.

She promised to be quick despite the pout he wore. Rolling her eyes, she left her quarters for Draco's rooms. "Hi," she said softly when he opened the door. Draco eyed her patiently as she struggled to speak. When words wouldn't come, she rose to the tips of her toes and wrapped her arms around him in a brief hug. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear.

Gobsmacked, Draco could say nothing, opting instead to return her embrace. Hermione was the first to pull away, her cheeks red when she did. She moved away, ready to reenter her own room when Draco stopped her. "Did you really think I would have done it?" he wondered.

"You know, now that I've had time to think about it, I don't believe you would have," she admitted.

"Because I'm a coward?" he joked.

Instead of the smile he hoped for, Hermione frowned. "Because I think you might be a better person that we ever gave you credit for," she replied. "Granted, you were a jerk when we were children, but when it comes down to it, you don't want to hurt people. At least that's my take on it."

"Yeah well, words were one thing," he muttered.

Hermione nodded understandingly. "So, Harry's in there and I'm worried about his penchant for alphabetizing my books," she said. "I'll save you a seat at dinner tonight."

"Thanks, Hermione."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"So, are things good now?" Harry asked, catching Draco outside the Great Hall.

"Better than they were six hours ago," Draco remarked. "Although I doubt she's inviting me to her birthday party."

Harry waved him off. "She invites everyone," he shared. "She's basically a Hufflepuff when it comes to birthdays. Hermione is also an incredible woman. Her ability to forgive is...unlike any other. You seriously have to wrong her and be completely unrepentant for her to not give you another chance."

Sighing, Draco leaned against the nearest wall. "And how many chances have I gotten so far?" he wondered. "How many more am I going to get? I've hurt people, Potter, and I'm not sure I deserve second and third and fourth chances."

"Yeah, but Hermione's going to give them, especially now that she knows the truth," Harry replied.

"And you think that's wise?" Draco inquired, an eyebrow piqued.

Harry laughed. "I'm not one to question her judgment," he said. "If she sees a reason to see something good in you, I won't question that. However, if it turns out this is all a lie, that you really did hurt her that night, I've got a cell in Azkaban with your name on it."

Draco took the threat seriously, assuring Potter he had no intention of betraying Hermione. "Neville saw the memories," he shared. "Unadulterated, unaltered memories. He knows the truth."

Harry nodding, agreeing that Neville Longbottom was the right man for the situation. If Hermione believed anyone, it was Neville. The pair had been confidants since childhood, and it seemed that had continued as they became adults. Neville was never one to judge, and knew Hermione would return the favor when he needed to talk.

"Smart move," Harry commented with a smirk. "If Hermione's going to follow anyone's advice, it would be Neville's. If he trusts you, he'll convince Hermione to trust you. Quite clever, Malfoy."

"That wasn't exactly my plan," Draco muttered. "I really thought he'd make me tell her. Honestly, I think he just got fed up with my silence. I'm glad she knows though, and maybe she'll let me reverse the memories. I hate to think what these did to her all these years."

Harry nodded, knowing exactly what they had done to her. "It's in the past now," he said. "And I should be going. It was good talking."

The pair parted ways and Draco returned to his rooms, hoping to run into Hermione. She had left dinner early, complaining of a headache. She quickly welcomed him in when he knocked. "I'm fine," she told him. "There's just been a lot to think about today, and it was hard to do with Harry staring at me. I hope he didn't give you any trouble."

Draco shook his head, letting her know it had been fine. "I was more concerned about you," he said. "We both know I can survive a Harry Potter hexing."

Hermione produced a short laugh before schooling her features. "You don't need to worry about me," she replied. "I've gotten pretty used to taking care of myself over the years. I don't like it when people worry about me."

"What's wrong with people caring about you?" Draco wondered.

Looking away, she shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with it," she said, noting that they sat in the same positions as the night she awoke in his bed. "There's nothing wrong with broccoli, but I don't like it. To me, this is the same thing."

Sighing, he laid down on the floor. "As long as you don't feel like a burden," he muttered, looking at her from the corner of his eye. She looked like she had been caught, and Draco knew his hunch was correct. "If, and I'm not saying you do, feel that way, just know that people who care about other people don't see them as a burden. At least I don't."

"And who do you care about, Draco Malfoy?" she inquired, tossing him a pillow to put beneath his head.

Sighing, he considered her question for a moment. "My mother," he finally decided. "Lucius...he can rot in Azkaban for all I care. Let's see, who else? Pansy, I guess. We've known each other since birth. She's been the sister I never wanted, but loved anyway."

"So you dated your sister?" Hermione interjected. "Talk about trying to keep the bloodlines pure."

Laughing, he used the pillow to whack her leg. "It wasn't like that," he insisted, though acknowledged that there was probably some relation between the Parkinsons and Malfoys. "We were expected to be together. Our mothers were best friends, and thought it would be just so adorable for their only children to marry. Pansy and I didn't see it that way though. Snogging was nice, but I didn't want to get married."

Hermione nodded in agreement, adverse to the idea herself. "We're too young to think about marriage," she decided.

"So, you and Weasley aren't planning the big day?" he asked.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione shook her head. "One kiss in the heat of battle does not lead to the altar," she stated. "Honestly, after what happened - what I thought happened - dating of any kind was the last thing I wanted."

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

Laughing it off, she attempted to smile. "Sorry you ruined me for other men?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.

Draco scowled, finding no humor in the situation. "It's not funny, Granger," he said, his cheeks reddening with anger. "What happened that night is not a joke. Even though nothing happened, I didn't deserve to be defended by you. This need you have to protect people is going to get you hurt."

"I can take care of myself," she replied defensively. "Besides, not telling the world that you raped me isn't an obsessive need to protect everyone around me. I weighed the pros and cons for a long time, and decided that it happened under duress. You didn't want to do it anymore than I wanted it done. And, if I'm correct, it worked out perfectly for you because you're a free man thanks to me keeping that to myself."

Scoffing, he stood and tossed the pillow onto the sofa. "Yes, thank you so much for your magnanimous gesture," he replied sarcastically. "Because if there's one person who deserves it, it's the guy who raped you."

"And you said it didn't happen that way," she shot back. "Why should you be punished for something that didn't happen?"

"But you didn't know that!" he shouted.

She took a deep breath to calm herself. "I'm not going to apologize," she said. "I made a decision five years ago, one I don't regret. As angry and hurt as I was about what happened, it was still my choice to not report it. If it had been someone else, someone who gladly would have done it, I would have. I've known you long enough to know that you never would have done it."

"I appreciate what you did," he told her, his voice softening. "I'll never stop appreciating what you did. I just...I don't think I understand."

Hermione shrugged. "That's okay," she replied. "And I've been thinking - if I can reverse the memories, maybe you'll feel less guilty. Maybe if I know the truth for myself, you'll stop beating yourself up over this."

"It's worth a try."


	7. Chapter 7

I got my blood work results back today, and they're not great. I'm waiting for an update from my doctor, and in the meantime, will be distracting myself with pictures of kittens and Joe Biden.

* * *

Chapter 7

Hermione was confident that she could reverse Draco's spell. After all, she had done the same thing to her parents before the war began, and had been successful in restoring their memories. Though they remained in Australia and had little contact with their daughter, at least Hermione knew that they were her parents once more.

"You're sure you know how to do this?" Neville asked, standing over her as Hermione reviewed the spell once more. "I mean, what if it goes wrong? You said it was bad to use magic on yourself."

"I told you that to keep you from hurting yourself," she replied with a grin. "If it makes you feel better, I'll ask another professor to perform the spell. Honestly, I'm not keen on messing this up either."

Neville read the spell over her shoulder. "What about Draco?" he asked. "He is apprenticing in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Not that I consider this a dark art, but it seems like it would be in his wheelhouse. And I'd like to be there with you."

"I'd like that," she murmured, patting his hand. "And I think you're right about Draco doing it. Maybe it'll alleviate some of the guilt he feels. He views what happened as him hurting me yet again, and I see it as him saving my life. I don't know how to get him to see it from my point of view. Hit him over the head with something hard?"

Neville laughed. "Might not be effective, but it could be fun," he concurred. "I don't know. I was never a fan of the guy, but he seems really different since he came back. I think you've had that effect on him. I hope you're right, Hermione. This really could make things a bit more peaceful around here, especially between the two of you."

"We're fine," she insisted.

A dark eyebrow rose skeptically. "Really?" Neville wondered. "So, what he said about your need to protect everyone, even if you end up hurt, didn't rub you the wrong way?"

With a huff, she acknowledged that he may be right. "I'm not going to apologize for it," she stated. "Of course I'm going to look out for the people I love. Who wouldn't?"

"You love Draco?" Neville asked, grinning ear to ear. "Harry and Ron are gonna hate that."

Hermione rolled her eyes, ignoring his question. "What are the chances he's lying about what happened that night?" she asked. "What if what I think happened really did, and this is all an act to torture me?"

"I know that's the case," he replied softly. "And I know you don't think that's the case either. Malfoy might be a lot of horrible things, but a rapist isn't one of them."

She nodded, knowing he was right. Gathering the books, she stood and kissed Neville's cheek. "You know you're my favorite," she murmured.

"As it should be," he responded, giving her arm a gentle squeeze before she left.

Passing the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Hermione peeked in to find Draco hard at work. "You know, chronic frowning will give you wrinkles," she informed him.

Scowling, he looked up from the papers he had been grading. "One kid answered question with jelly legs jinx," he replied. "It was a sixth year." Hermione laughed and promised to let him get back to his work. She'd taken two steps when he called out her name. Turning back, she stood in the doorway patiently. "Everything alright? I heard you up early this morning. Well, earlier than usual."

"I was up late reading," she told him. "By the time I finished, it didn't seem prudent to go to sleep. What were you doing up?"

"Grading," he said. "Apparently apprentice is code for do all the work the professor has no interest in doing. My job is mainly grading homework and exams. This job is kind of the worst."

"George Weasley could always use help at the shop," she suggested. "Test tasters are in high demand. You're not allergic to feathers, right?"

Chuckling, he shook his head. "You know, if I had the money, I'd reopen the ice cream parlor. That was always my favorite place in the alley. Fortescue didn't deserve what happened to him."

Hermione nodded in agreement as she entered the classroom. "A lot of people didn't deserve what happened to them," she added. He looked down, feeling ashamed. "I was hoping to ask you a favor."

His eyes focused on her hand that now laid over his own. "What kind of favor?"

"The kind where I ask you to use a spell you've never used to reverse my memories," she said. "Well, I'm guessing it's one you've never used. I'd do it myself since I have a bit of experience with it, but Neville's worried for my safety. You're the only one I trust to do this."

"Potter knows. What about him?" Draco suggested.

Hermione chuckled softly. "I'd rather have Neville do it," she remarked. "You know memories charms, Harry doesn't. Mending a broken bone or defeating a dark wizard, he'd be my man. For this, though, I want you."

He was touched and thrilled that she wanted his help. The other part of him feared that the spell could go wrong and hurt her. That was the last thing he wanted, and he made his concerns known. "I'm scared," he confessed. "It's so easy for something to go wrong. What if I do even more damage?"

"I understand," she said. "I know what it's like to alter someone's memories, and then wonder what'll happen when they're reversed. I just...I didn't want to drag more people into this. Maybe this is something Harry can do now that he knows."

"I feel like I'm letting you down," he replied. "I did this. I should be the one to fix it."

She smiled softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "You're not letting me down," she assured him. "Although, if I were you, I wouldn't be surprised if I use this to guilt trip you often."

Chuckling, he acknowledged that he would heed her warning. "Do you think we'll be okay when this is over?" he wondered. "Happy as I am that you trust me, I just worry that maybe there's something in your memories that you don't like. We're getting so close to being friends, and I don't want to lose that."

"You think there's something worse than implanted memories of you raping me?" she asked. "I can't imagine what could be worse than that."

He nodded despite his doubts. "I'm sure you'll find something," he said, hoping it sounded like a joke.

"Maybe you should have erased my memories of our Hogwarts interactions," she added. "You know my feelings about what you did that night, Draco. Try not to worry."


	8. Chapter 8

Update on the blood - I'm okay! My mother seems to enjoy freaking me out when it comes to my health, so she only gave me partial results the other day. And to add insult to injury (seriously, my arm has been bruised for a week after that needle) she's making me go shopping with her tonight. My dad's reply? HAHA with one of those laughing/crying yellow face things. If ever there was evidence for my immaturity being hereditary, that text is it.

* * *

Chapter 8

Hermione's heart pounded as Harry reviewed the spell for the fourth time. "You're sure about this?" he asked nervously. "Malfoy was always better at Charms than me. Isn't there a potion you could take?"

"You'll do fine," she promised. "Besides, the potion would take too long to brew. Granted, I've lived with these memories for five years, and I should theoretically be able to do that for another two months. The point is that I don't want to."

Laughing, he called her a petulant child as she slapped his arm. "Hey, I control your memories. Be nice to me," he replied. "Keep it up and you'll think you're married to Cormac McLaggen and the mother of six."

"I love you the most, Harry," she murmured, kissing his cheek.

"Last week she loved me the most," Neville interrupted. "Now that she needs you, you're at the top of her list. I feel used, Hermione."

"As long as it's not Malfoy she declares her love for," Harry said, pretending to gag. "I don't know that I can handle the two of them together."

"You two realize I'm standing right here and have excellent hearing," Hermione interjected. The pair grinned, but offered nothing else. "Besides, Malfoy and I are nothing but friends...almost. We've only just moved beyond name calling and hex threats. Dating anyone is the last thing I want to do anyhow. Perhaps instead of discussing my nonexistent love life, we can focus on restoring my memories."

Nodding, Harry agreed that it was more important that they get down to business. Neville excused himself as Harry prepared to cast the spell, promising to return shortly. "Hey, let's go," he said when Draco opened his door. "Harry's restoring Hermione's memories, and I think you should be there."

"Why?" Draco wondered. "Shouldn't it be up to her if I'm a part of this? I'd rather give her some space on this, Longbottom. I'm sorry."

Though he was disappointed, Neville accepted his reasoning and returned to Hermione's quarters. Shutting the door, Draco sighed and leaned against it. He could help but wonder how things would change when Hermione had her true memories restored. Though she had made it clear that she didn't see him as a coward, he couldn't help feeling like one.

As he thought of that night, he remembered the aftermath most vividly. Once again, he had failed as a Death Eater. He had been punished a year earlier for not killing Dumbledore. Several wands pointed at him casting the Cruciatus Curse was an experience he hoped to never repeat. His aunt, though, had been far more brutal than the Dark Lord. She wasn't content with just the Cruciatus. Though she had lost the knife used on Hermione when the Golden Trio escaped, Bellatrix Lestrange was nothing if not prepared with backup. Pulling up the corner of his shirt, he gingerly traced the scars she had inflicted.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. Opening the door, he saw Harry standing on the other side. "It's done," he said. "She's resting right now, but I was able to cast the spell."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief and thanked him. "It was great of you to do this, Potter," he mumbled.

"So you're going to go see her," Harry stated, leaving little room for Draco to doubt that it was a request.

"Is that what she wants?" Draco asked. Harry softened as he nodded. "She's okay?"

Smiling, Harry assured him she was. "Just come see her," he said. "Unless you're worried that she's going to tell you to stop beating yourself up over this. While I may revel in your pain, Hermione doesn't."

"You're revelling in this?" Draco asked.

Rolling his eyes, he grabbed Draco's arm and dragged him from the room. Returning to Hermione's room, Draco stopped in the doorway as Harry made his way to his friend's side. Hermione reclined on the sofa, a blanket over her legs and a mug of tea in her hands. "Could the two of you leave us alone for a few minutes?" she requested. "I promise to scream if I need you."

Harry was hesitant to leave, but Neville was quick to lead them to his rooms down the hall. Alone, Draco moved into the room, but maintained his distance. "So, um, how's your head?" he asked.

"A bit sore," she replied. "Neville made a tea for it though. It tastes like a foot. So, are you preparing to run, or do you want to come in and talk to me?"

Slowly, he approached the sofa and sat down near her feet. "Why do you know what a foot tastes like?" he wondered, making her laugh. "And, um, how are we?"

"Well, considering you keep better snacks, I'd say we're good," she remarked. Draco scowled, imploring her to be serious. "Draco, stop. We're okay. I'm not mad that you planted the memories. I'm not mad that it wasn't you who reversed them. Honestly, I'm happy that I know the truth for myself now. Would you please stop worrying now? Just accept that you saved me that night, that I'm grateful for it, and that I don't hold those memories against you. No more apologies for this."

Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Does this mean we're getting closer to being friends?" he asked. There was a small grin on her lips as she nodded. "Good. I'm looking forward to finally having one."

"You had Crabbe and Goyle," she reminded him. "There were those other Slytherins I always saw you with too. Weren't they your friends?"

Sighing, he shrugged. "Crabbe and Goyle were more like lackeys," he explained. "They followed me around, kept me safe from most people, and did what I demanded. Blaise and Theo were like Pansy. We've all known each other since we were in nappies. We had no choice but to be friends. We were chosen for each other because of our parents. I think you might be my first real friend, Granger. One that I chose to befriend."

"I feel honored," she replied, "and a little pressured. Now, when you said most people, you were talking about me, weren't you?" Nodding, he asked if she ever regretted slapping him in their third year. "Not for a second. You had it coming."

Draco laughed, but refused to agree. "Potato, potahto, Granger," he replied, smiling. "You forget I was attacked."

"After provoking Buckbeak," she added. "Besides, you were fine. A couple scratches are nothing compared to-"

She stopped short, and Draco said nothing. "Yeah," he mumbled, giving her leg a gentle squeeze before standing. "I, um, I should let you rest. We're okay now?"

"We're okay, Draco."


	9. Chapter 9

Happy Friday! My department's assistant is currently giving me fashion advice, which is totally what he's here for, right?

* * *

Chapter 9

Ron fumed as Harry filled him in on the latest goings on at Hogwarts. Hermione had purposely kept him in the dark, knowing how quick his temper could be. "Why are you just telling me this now?" he demanded. "And why isn't it coming from Hermione? Are we arresting Malfoy? Letting him go on teaching impressionable kids? What's the plan here, Harry?"

"The plan," Harry said calmly, "is to let them be. Hermione has her memories back, and wants things to go back to normal. We are going to respect her wishes. She's been through enough, Ron. It's our job to support her."

"And him? Are we supposed to support him as well?" Ron inquired, his cheeks reddening.

With a heavy sigh, Harry shrugged. "If she wants us to," he replied.

Guffawing, Ron let it be known that he couldn't believe the turn of events. Angry, he turned to leave Harry's office in the Auror Department, but stopped by the door. "Do you think this is why she wouldn't date me?" he asked. "I mean, if Malfoy put those memories in her head, maybe she thought that I wouldn't want to be with someone that that happened to."

"I think it's part of it," Harry conceded. Ron's eyes widened, filling with hope that he may still have a future with Hermione. "I also think that she doesn't want a relationship. If that is the case, you need to respect that. If she does want one, let her come to you."

Ron nodded, not thrilled by his friend's advice. Leaving the office, he took the floo to Hogwarts to visit Hermione. It had been weeks since they had seen one another, and he hoped she would be willing to talk. His search began in the library, remembering fondly the number of times he had found her there as students. When he realized she wasn't there, he moved on to her classroom, then her quarters, and finally made his way to the lake.

As he approached the shore, he heard laughter, instantly recognizing Hermione's exuberant laugh. Who he saw by her side made him stop in his tracks. Draco Malfoy caught his eye and a chuckle seemed to die on his lips. Hermione looked over her shoulder when the merriment ended and smiled at Ron, beckoning him over.

"What's so funny?" he asked, standing over them with his arms crossed.

"We were talking about a mutual student," she told him, patting the ground beside her in a silent request that he sit. "Um, the kind of student who puts the same answer to every question in hopes that it'll be right at least once. Sound familiar?"

Ron's ears reddened. "Once, Hermione. I did that once," he mumbled.

"I told them they needed to study more," she said to Draco. "Never listened to me though."

He smiled hesitantly, uncomfortable with Ron suddenly around. "I have some work to do," he said, getting to his feet. "I'll see you later, Granger."

Hermione frowned, watching him walk away. When Draco was gone, Ron sat down. "What are you doing here?" she wondered.

"Why are you so chummy with Draco Malfoy?" he retorted.

"Because we're friends," she replied with a scowl. "Now answer my question."

Staring at the rippling water, he told her that he knew about the implanted memories and their reversal. "Why didn't you tell us before?" he wondered. "I mean, Harry said you just found out they were fake, but why didn't you tell us what happened at Malfoy Manor?"

"Because I didn't want to," was her simple response. "It was hard enough dealing with it on my own, Ron. Talking about it with you and Harry...I didn't know how to do that. I wasn't ready to deal with it, and talking about it meant having to deal with it."

Nodding, he held her hand. "I'm sorry, Mione," he murmured. She shrugged and exhaled. "Things seem good between the two of you now."

"He was there," she said. "Everything that happened there, Draco saw it. He protected me when he could. In a strange way, I became comfortable with him. Knowing those memories were false and having them reversed has made it easier for us to move forward and build a friendship. He's not nearly as bad as he was when we were children."

His hold on her hand tightened as he prepared to ask the one question he feared the most. "Those memories - are they the reason we didn't work out?"

"No," she replied. "I love you, Ron. Even when we were fighting, I knew I loved you. It's just...I didn't love you the way a girlfriend loves a boyfriend. After the war, the last thing I wanted was a relationship, and it had nothing to do with what happened at Malfoy Manor. It was just the last thing on my mind at the time."

"And now?" he asked, holding onto hope that there might still be a chance she had feelings for him.

Slipping her hand from beneath his, she shook her head. "I still don't feel that way about you," she replied. "I don't want to lose you, Ron, but I also can't date you."

"Okay," he said standing. He offered a hand to her to help her to her feet. "So, friends?"

Smiling, she kissed his cheek. "Always," she replied, leading him to the castle. She showed him her classroom, empty on a Saturday afternoon, then brought him to her quarters. When he remarked that he hadn't known the staff quarters existed, she laughed. "Harry said the same thing. Where did you think the professors and staff lived?"

Ron shrugged. "Elsewhere?" he guessed. "I don't know, I just never thought about it. They're nice though. Bet the walls aren't thin like they are at home."

"Thin enough for me to have a lifetime of blackmail on Draco," she remarked. "He's quite loud. Pansy Parkinson came by to visit the other day, and I believe I heard him declare that he had worn a dress once. I probably shouldn't have told you that."

"Remind me to find Parkinson's floo information so I can ask for pictures," Ron joked. Hermione laughed and made a pot of tea while he surveyed the living area. "So, you and Malfoy are really friends, huh? What's that like?"

She shrugged as she joined him on the sofa. "It's not so bad," she decided. "He feeds me, which you know I like. And he...makes me laugh. There aren't a lot of people I can talk to here, especially about the war, but Draco is someone with whom I can. Sometimes I need that."

Ron let her know he understood. "I'm sorry you couldn't talk to us," he replied. "Maybe now that Harry and I know, you might be comfortable talking to us about it?"

Smiling, she nodded. "Thank you, Ron," she murmured, patting his thigh. "I just...I really appreciate this. I don't know what I would have done if I lost you and Harry. I know Draco's not your favorite person, but he's been a good friend to me. I'm not going to push the three of you to be friends, but I appreciate you and Harry giving him the benefit of the doubt."

"You're important to us," Ron explained. "We love you and don't want to lose you. If it means making nice with Malfoy, that's what we'll do."


	10. Chapter 10

Way back when as a young college student, I watched _Supernatural_ religiously. Over the weekend, I decided to rewatch from the beginning, and oh my god, the feels! Is it just me, or does Jensen Ackles not age? Like, there's voodoo happening there.

* * *

Chapter 10

Draco stood outside the Transfiguration classroom, waiting for Hermione to dismiss her students. In his hand he held a letter from Headmistress McGonagall, thanking him for volunteering to chaperone the upcoming Halloween ball. Hermione, he assumed, was to blame.

"Read chapter five, and be prepared to practice transfiguring whistles into watches tomorrow," Hermione instructed, wrapping up her lesson. The third years quickly packed their bags and filed out of the classroom, greeting Draco as they passed. "You're not in my next class," she commented when he entered the room.

"And yet you're giving me assignments," he retorted, handing her the letter. "I didn't even know this was a thing."

Taking the letter from him, she apologized. "No one else would volunteer," she explained. "I'm sorry I didn't ask you first. I just I wanted a buddy there with me."

Rolling his eyes, he pocketed the letter. "You could have asked. I would have said yes," he told her. "You know I like spending time with you too."

Hermione looked away, feeling her cheeks warm. "Yeah?" she asked, catching his nod from the corner of her eye. "So, Hogsmeade this weekend - help me keep an eye on the kids?"

Draco chuckled, taking a seat on the nearest desk. "Here I thought you were asking me to be your date for the ball," he commented. "Now I think you're using me."

Brown eyes widened as she swore that wasn't the case. "I wouldn't do that," she swore. "Honestly, Draco, I never intended to make it seem that way."

"Granger, stop," he said, unable to control his laughter. "I was just trying to get a rise out of you. I'll chaperone Hogsmeade and the Halloween ball and the Christmas party and whatever else you ask me to help with."

"Why?" she wondered.

"From what I've been told that's what friends do," he replied. "You're my best friend, Hermione. I'll help however I can."

Grinning, she kissed his cheek, relieved by the outcome of their talk. "I promise to always ask in the future," she murmured. "And if it helps, you can choose our costumes."

His arm wound around her waist, holding her close. "You might regret that," he warned. She shot him a defiant look and pulled away. Returning to her desk, she sat down and began to grade the quiz she had given her fourth years that morning. "Hey, can I ask a question? It's completely unrelated to any and all things you volunteer me for."

"Ask away," she said, setting aside her quill.

"Where do you live?" he asked. "When you're not here, I mean."

"I have a flat in Diagon Alley," she told him. "It's above the Weasley twins' joke shop. After George got married, he found another place and offered it to me. Why do you ask?"

Frowning, he nodded and stood. "I was just curious," he replied, making his way to the door. "Looks like your next class is here."

Hermione spent the rest of the day pondering the strange question Draco had posed. Seated next to Neville at dinner, she hadn't heard a word he had said. He seemed to be wrapping up a story when he asked, "Where's Malfoy?"

It hadn't gone unnoticed that Draco wasn't at dinner. He often took his meals alone in his room, especially after a tough conversation. She hadn't realized that living arrangements outside of Hogwarts would be a trigger. Pushing back her chair, Hermione promised to talk to him later and left the Great Hall.

Draco sat in the hallway, his back against her door and his eyes closed. He had spent his afternoon at the Leaky Cauldron imbibing firewhiskey and feeling sorry for himself. Over breakfast, Neville had mentioned that he was looking for a flat to rent for the summer, and it occurred to Draco that once the school year ended, he had nowhere to go.

The sound of footsteps approached, and he groaned, praying he wasn't in trouble. They grew louder, then stopped, and someone sat down beside him. "Why are you out here?" he heard Hermione's soft voice ask.

"Because I'm homeless," he mumbled.

Sighing, she stood and pulled him to his feet. It was difficult to open the door and support his weight, but Hermione managed. "Okay, what's this about?" she asked, settling him on the sofa.

"You have a flat, Neville's getting one, and I'm homeless," he told her. "I have nowhere to live."

Brows furrowed, she sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Where were you living before you came here?" she wondered.

"A Ministry approved residence," he muttered indignantly. "My mother, the woman who saved the life of Harry Potter, got to keep most of the Black family properties. Being a Death Eater, I wasn't allowed to be rewarded with a nice home, or hell, even one that wasn't infested with rats and roaches. Once I secured employment, it was also up to me to find a place to live. I didn't think about where I'd go once school is over."

Hermione scowled. "I told Kingsley they needed to improve the conditions in those houses," she said angrily. Draco opened his eyes, staring at her curiously. "Sorry, that's not the point right now, is it. You're not going to be homeless. We'll find you a place."

"And I pay for it with, what, my good looks?" he asked. "I'm an apprentice. I'll barely be able to buy a new pair of shoes when the year is up, let alone pay rent."

"I have a spare room," she said.

Scoffing, he pulled away and stood on wobbly legs. "I'm not looking for your pity, Granger," he spat.

"Good, I wasn't offering it," she retorted. "I thought I was helping a friend."

He leaned against the mantel, hanging his head. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I'm not...I'm not used to someone caring about me or wanting to help me. I just...I'm sorry, Hermione."

She joined him by the fireplace and lifted his chin to meet her eyes. "Get used to it," she told him. "We'll find you a place to live. If we can't, we'll talk to McGonagall about letting you live in the castle during the summer. I'm sure she'll understand. After all, she oversees our compensation."

He tried to laugh, but it came out as a heavy sigh. "I doubt that'll be an option," he said. "She was reluctant to hire me in the first place. After everything I did, I'm surprised she let me in. Giving me room and board over the summer seems like a long shot. You know, I always wondered if she knew about...us, and that's why I needed your permission to work here."

"She knew about Malfoy Manor. Most people do," she replied. "They just don't know the whole story. What happened between us wasn't the reason, at least I don't think it was. She's protective, and she's been a good friend to me over the years. I think that's why she asked that we talk. Honestly, I think we've done a pretty good job of clearing the air."

Draco nodded. "We have," he concurred.

"Do you remember when you told me that the people you care about aren't a burden?" she asked. Slowly, he turned to face her. "You're not a burden, Draco. You're not a charity case or someone to be pitied. You're my friend and I care about you. I'll do whatever I can to help you, and that includes letting you stay in the extra room in my flat. Just...promise me you'll think about it. Keep it as an 'if all else fails' option."

Leaning in, he kissed her cheek. "I will."


	11. Chapter 11

I'm on vacation next week! Even though it's a staycation, there's a pretty good chance I'll be too lazy to update. It's just...there's TV to watch and a blanket to make and sleep to catch up on and more TV to watch. There are only so many hours in a day!

* * *

Chapter 11

Draco sat at the staff table, breakfast untouched and eyes unfocused on the letter in hand. When Hermione took the seat beside him, he handed it to her without a word. "Your mother?" she asked. He nodded and waited for her to finish reading the letter. "So, what are you going to do?"

Sighing, he pocketed the parchment and stared at his plate. "I don't know," he admitted. "It would take care of housing. It's just...I don't want to live there. That's the house where Bellatrix grew up, and the couple times I've been there have given me the heebie-jeebies. I hate it there, Hermione. I love my mother, but I can't live there."

She held his hand beneath the table. "I understand," she murmured. "You know, if you take the spare room in my flat, I won't charge you rent."

"Because George doesn't charge you rent?" he guessed. Laughing, she told him he was correct. "You seem to be pushing this a lot. Why do you want me to live with you?"

Letting go of his hand, she turned to her breakfast. "Because I've gotten used to you," she said nonchalantly. "I like our nightly chats and meals together. It would be much easier to do that if we continued sharing a wall."

Draco smirked, noticing the blush that slowly creeped up her neck. "So, it's not because you like me?" he asked. Hermione scoffed in response. "Does it have anything to do with my devastatingly good looks? My rock hard abs? My gorgeous, silky hair?"

"Is this what I was missing out on for all those years?" she wondered, laughing until she couldn't breathe. "You truly are a narcissist."

"You've just figured that out?" he said aghast. "It's like you don't know me at all, Granger. Here I've been telling everyone we're friends, but I guess I was wrong."

She took a deep breath to get her laughter under control. "You tell people that?"

Confusion could clearly be read on his face. "Of course I do," he told her. "This isn't some secret friends nonsense, at least not for me. If you don't want people to know, I'll stop saying anything."

"No, it's fine. I'm fine," she replied. "I just didn't know. Sometimes I forget that we're not eleven anymore. As happy as I am that you no longer hate me, it is something that takes some getting used to."

He nodded, agreeing with her wholeheartedly. "Being your friend means everything to me," he assured her. "I'm not looking to minimize or trivialize our past, because I was horrible to you, but moving forward together is all I want."

"And that's what we're doing," she replied with a smile. "So, about that letter from your mother - what are you going to do?"

0000000000

Taking a deep breath, Draco approached Black Manor. He had last been there as a young teenager following the death of his grandmother. The house had scared him at fourteen, and he had vowed then never to return. Seeing his mother was more important than fearing a dead woman, he decided.

"Hi, Mum," he said hesitantly when the front door opened.

Wordlessly, Narcissa Malfoy pulled her only child to her in a loving embrace. A head taller than his mother, she was able to rest her own head on his shoulder, soaking his jacket with tears. "I've missed you," she murmured, finally pulling away to lead him inside. "Tell me everything. How is it being back at Hogwarts? They're treating you well?"

He took a seat on the stiff-backed sofa and nervously fiddled with his hands. "Everything's good," he mumbled. "Um, I wanted to talk about your letter. I'm happy to keep sending you money if you need it, but I can't live here. I know you're happy here, and I don't want you to feel you have to give that up for me. As much as I would love to be here for you and with you, I can't. I'm sorry, Mum."

Moving to his side, she ran her fingers through his soft hair before holding him close. "I understand," she murmured. "We could always find a new place to live. My happiness isn't tied to this house, sweetheart. I'd rather have you."

"Granger asked me to live with her," he said, his words coming out in a rush. Narcissa stiffened beside him. "We've become really good friends, and I want to take her up on her offer. But I'm torn too. I hate leaving you alone, and it's one thing to do it while I'm working. This though, I don't have to do this. I don't have to live with her. I can stay with you."

"No, you can't," she said. "I'm the parent, Draco. It's my responsibility to take care of you, not the other way around. I know you're an adult and far past the age when parental intervention means anything to you, but I will not allow you to live here."

Draco pulled away, staring at her as if his mother had lost her mind. "But...but you need me," he insisted.

Smiling, she cupped his cheek. "I need you to be happy," she corrected him. "I chose the life I wanted, at least until a certain point. I married the man I loved, I have a son I adore. It's been a good life, Draco. I'm quite content in my life now as well. It's your turn to do the same."

"Even if I decide that I want to be with Hermione Granger?" he wondered. "She's a muggleborn, you know."

Narcissa nodded, smoothing back her blonde hair. Blue eyes that he had once seen as cold now radiated a mother's love. "Does her blood status bother you?" she countered. Looking down, ashamed, he shook his head. "Good. What your father taught you about blood purity was rubbish. You and I both saw that poor girl bleed, and there was nothing muddy in her veins."

"She's great, Mum," he shared. "After everything I've done to her, she still wants to be my friend. I regret how we treated each other all those years. Maybe if I'd been nicer we could have been friends when we were younger. At least I can make that right now."

Smiling, his mother nodded in agreement. "I'd like to meet her," Narcissa requested. "I'd like to get to know her under better circumstances."

Though hesitant, he promised to arrange a meeting, but cautioned his mother not to get her hopes up. The one time the women had been in the same place, Hermione had been tortured by his aunt. Hermione had been through enough, and he wasn't sure she was ready to face his mother.

"I should get back to the school," he said, standing. "We'll talk soon though."

"Mention my request to Miss Granger," Narcissa replied, hugging him.

He nodded and left the house, returning to Hogwarts. Arriving in his quarters, he breathed a sigh of relief to be back where he felt safe and comfortable. It wasn't long before he heard a knock at the door, and he knew Hermione would be on the other side. He greeted her with a grin and pulled her inside. The first question she asked was how his talk had gone with Narcissa. "Everything's good," he told her, deciding it was better not to tell her about his mother's desire to meet.


	12. Chapter 12

I'm back from vacation! That's all I have to say about that. Did anyone else read that like Forrest Gump?

* * *

Chapter 12

"I'm having lunch at the Burrow today and you're coming with me," Hermione said as Draco opened his door. He groaned at the sight of her. It was only just past seven in the morning, but Hermione was awake and as chipper as ever.

"Are you having breakfast there too?" he mumbled, walking away from her.

Hermione let herself in and sat down on the sofa. "No, _we're_ not," she replied. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

Shrugging, he made two cups of coffee and joined her. "I'd just fallen asleep," he told her. She stood, apologizing profusely as she made to leave. "Don't go. Just...stay and talk to me."

Hermione sat down once more and reached for his hand. "Nightmares?" she asked. Fighting back a yawn, he nodded. "I had a dream about you last night. Nothing bad, I promise. It was actually pretty nice. You took me for a broom ride. I was terrified, but the longer the dream went on the better it got. You kept me safe and told me that you wouldn't let anything bad happen to me. I can't remember the last time I had a dream as nice as that one."

"Must be nice," he muttered. "So, tell me why I'm going to the Weasleys' house today for lunch. Because last time I checked that entire family hates me."

"Not everyone," she insisted, though she knew she was trying to convince herself of that more. "I just thought maybe you'd like a change of scenery. Aside from one visit to your mother, I've never seen you leave the castle."

He pulled his hand away from her and crossed his arms over his chest. "That's my choice, Hermione," he stated. "I understand that you spent a decade planning Potter and Weasley's lives because they wouldn't have survived without you, but I don't need that kind of handholding. I want a friend, Granger, not a babysitter or a social secretary."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," she said, getting to her feet once more. "That wasn't my intention, but I'm sorry you interpreted the invitation that way. I'll see you later."

He let her go. They would make up later, but for now he wanted to be mad. Though he had meant what he had said, he hadn't intended to sound so angry. That she couldn't seem to understand his point of view had only fueled the fire. He hadn't appreciated her insinuation that he had become a shut-in either.

Standing by the door, he heard movement in the hallway. So early in the morning, he knew it was Hermione making her way from the staff quarters. When the footsteps receded, he left his room. Once he was beyond the front doors, he made his way to Hogsmeade and the Three Broomsticks. The last time he had been to the pub was as a sixth year. He had used the Imperius Curse on Madame Rosmerta, the pub owner, and used her to deliver a cursed necklace to another student. After that, he had been too ashamed to show his face in the Three Broomsticks again. After the war, the barmaid had left England and the pub was under new ownership.

"Draco Malfoy?" He looked up to see a blonde around his age behind the bar. He recognized, but couldn't put a face with the name. "Hannah Abbott. I was a Hufflepuff. You used to dip my hair in your ink during History of Magic."

His eyes widened and an apology slipped past his lips. "Was there anyone I was nice to?" he wondered aloud.

"You did save me from a Death Eater during the final battle," she told him. "I don't know who it was. He had me backed into a corner after taking my wand. I was probably seconds away from being Avada'd when you stunned him. From what I've heard, you're something of a hero to muggleborns in trouble."

"Where'd you hear that?" he asked.

Hannah shrugged. "Neville," she answered. "So, what are you doing here so early? And why is this the first time I've seen you in here?"

"Needed a drink," he muttered.

Blonde brows rose, but she silently poured him a firewhiskey. Neither spoke as he down the shot, paid, and left. It had snowed the night before, and Draco made it his mission to stomp through each drift. It was cathartic and a bit of fun, and there was no one around to witness it. He felt calmer as he returned to the castle. The light, happy feeling he'd felt as he walked through the snow disappeared when he saw Hermione by the castle doors.

"I was just leaving," she told him brusquely. Draco shrugged as he past her, refusing to acknowledge her presence. Frowning, she continued on to the Apparition point and was soon at the Burrow. It was still too early for anyone to be awake, but Harry greeted her quietly when she entered. "What are you doing here this early?"

"Teddy's here," he whispered. "He was up most the night, so Molly called. He has a tendency to not sleep if he's not in his own bed and I'm not here. I just got him back to sleep. Do you know what they don't tell you about kids? They're exhausting. Cute, but thoroughly exhausting."

Hermione laughed as she joined him on the sofa. "I think that's just universally understood," she said. "He's lucky to have you, Harry. I don't know many people who'd drop everything to be with their godson."

"I love him," was his simple reply. "So, what are you doing here this early?"

Sighing, she rested her head on his shoulder. "I think I screwed things up with Draco," she confessed, telling him about their fight. "I want him to be a part of my life, and I may have pushed a bit too hard. Draco impresses me as the type to cut and run when he doesn't like how things are going."

Harry nodded in agreement. "He does, but I don't see that happening with you," he said. "He cares about you, Hermione. You might be the one person he doesn't walk away from. Granted, I have no evidence to back up that claim, but let's just call it intuition. I think you're the only person he cares about. I also think maybe it's better to ease him into this part of your life. He makes a fair point that these two families have never gotten along. As nice as it is that you want him around, maybe next time it should be up to him."

"So, what do I do?" she asked.

"Go back to Hogwarts, make things right with him," Harry advised.

Nodding, she kissed his cheek and promised to return later.


	13. Chapter 13

May I share my least favorite thing about cubicle work life? The button on my pants popped off this morning, so I was sewing it back on. Two women decided to stand right behind my desk to talk while I was kinda looking like a perv playing with my pants. In retrospect, I probably should have done it in my boss's office instead of out in the open. Live and learn.

* * *

Chapter 13

It took a good deal of searching, but Hermione finally found Draco at the Quidditch pitch. "Maybe I should have looked here first," she joked, joining him in the stands. "I've never seen the pitch empty before. It's actually kind of peaceful, and there's a nice view."

"Do you ever stop talking?" he wondered, staring out at the goal posts. The only sound was the whistling wind. The silence lasted long enough to make him uncomfortable. "I thought you left."

"I came back," she mumbled, eliciting a chuckle from the man beside her. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "I wanted to apologize to you. I should have asked you to come with me today instead of demanding it. It was wrong of me, and I'm sorry, Draco."

Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Don't worry about it," he told her. "I'm wasn't happy that you weren't giving me a choice, and maybe I would have said yes if I did have one. It doesn't matter though. I'm not going to lose the only friend I have over a stupid argument. We're fine, Hermione."

"Promise?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his for warmth. "Because I really like being your friend and I don't want to lose you either."

He pulled his arm away and wrapped it around her, holding her close as she shivered. "I'm not going anywhere," he assured her. "Especially the Burrow. I'm definitely not going there. I don't know if that Defense Against the Dark Arts curse extends to apprentices, but I don't want to find out."

Hermione laughed as he stood and helped her to her feet. "I guess I'll just have to accept that you intend to live," she decided as they walked back to the castle. "You know, Harry's the one who pointed out how wrong I was. And Ron told me he'd like to try to give you a chance. I'm just wondering if you might be willing to do the same."

Draco shrugged. "I could be willing to do that," he remarked. "Just don't get your hopes up if it doesn't happen. I know Potter and I have made nice for your sake, but Weasley and I have generations of bad blood between us. My aunt killed two of his uncles. I don't know that we'll ever be friends."

She nodded, letting him know she understood and would respect his feelings. "Whatever your relationship with them might be, I want you to know it doesn't affect us," she told him. "I don't want you to feel obligated to be friends with them because of me. And I don't know if you do feel that way. I just don't want you to feel that way."

"A part of me does," he admitted. "They've been in your life for a long time, half your life at this point. I don't want to come between the three of you. It's easy to say now that it won't happen, but you don't know for sure that it won't."

"Do you really think that if you did come between them and me that I'd be able to walk away from you?" she wondered. They had reached the foyer when she stopped walking. A few paces ahead, Draco stopped and turned to face her. "I'm not saying I intend to choose you or them. I'm just saying that I won't let it happen. You know, I'm allowed to have friends outside of them. There's no hard and fast rule that says you can't make friends outside of the group. Besides, they both seem okay with this. Not that I care what they think of you. All that matters is what I think."

Draco took a step closer. "Yeah, and what do you think?" he asked.

She smiled as he reached for her hand. "I think you're someone I've enjoyed getting to know," she said. "You're smart and funny, and I like being with you. I wake up in the morning, looking forward to seeing you. Fighting with you this morning...I hated that. If we could avoid ever doing that again, I'll be grateful."

"Me too," he replied with a soft chuckle. "I don't want to lose you either, Hermione. In fact, I'd very much like to keep you."

The small space between them closed as Draco leaned down to brush the gentlest of kisses across her lips. He was the first to pull away, dropping her hand as his cheeks reddened. Head down, he asked if what he had done was alright. "Only if you intend to do it again," she murmured. He attempted to kiss her again. "Maybe not here though. There are young eyes."

"And we're going to the Burrow," he added. "Probably best not to do it there either."

Brown eyes lit with excitement, and it took all her strength not to snog him in the hallway. "You don't have to, Draco, really," she insisted. "We've only just made up. I don't want to ruin it."

"And I don't want to wait for you to come home later," he countered. "I want to spend the day with you, and if that means going to the Weasleys', that's what I'll do."

Smiling, she squeezed his hand. "You're a good guy, Draco Malfoy," she remarked as they left the castle. He grinned proudly, and it didn't fade until they reached the Weasleys' front door. "You've still got time to reconsider."

He tightened his hold on her hand and knocked on the door. "No going back," he said confidently. The front door opened to reveal a very confused Molly Weasley. "Good morning, Mrs. Weasley. I apologize for coming uninvited, but Hermione insisted that I needed a good meal."

"Come in," she replied, stepping back to allow them entrance. Hermione let go of Draco's hand long enough to greet the witch who had become a surrogate mother to her. "We'll talk about this, yes?"

Hermione nodded, introduced Draco to the family, and followed Molly to the kitchen. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley," she began. "I should have asked first."

"Yes, you should have," the older witch murmured. "It's not that I mind setting an extra place, dear. I mind who I'm setting that place for. The Malfoys are not good people, Hermione. I'd hate to see you get caught up in their evil because you feel bad for the boy."

"I'll agree that his father wasn't the greatest person, but Draco's different," she replied defensively.

Molly sighed heavily. "That boy was raised to hate you," she stated. "And he did for a very long time. How can you defend him?"

Scoffing, Hermione eyed the stubborn witch. "Because some people change, " she said. "Draco's changed. He's been a good friend to me this last month, and I won't apologize for befriending him."

Turning back to her pot of stew, Molly continued to make lunch. The women stood in a silent stand off until George entered the kitchen. "Hi, Mione," he said, kissing her cheek. "So, I think Malfoy might be allergic to...something...in there. It's definitely not anything I may or may not have slipped in his pumpkin juice."

"Just give him the antidote, George," she replied, eyes remaining trained on the Weasley matriarch.

"Give it up," he said softly. "There's no use arguing with her. We're all okay with him being here. She'll come around."

Sighing, she let him lead her from the kitchen, and was relieved to find that Draco was fine. She turned, her eyes narrowing on George. "He was just trying to rescue you," Ron interjected. "Not that any of us thought you needed rescuing. It's just...you and Mum would have been having a staring contest for hours. Then you'd leave and never come back and we'd never see you again."

The anger faded as she crossed the room to hug her friend. "I'm sorry," she whispered in his ear.

"Hey, George wasn't lying to you about us being okay with him," he replied for only her to hear. "Mum's outnumbered."


	14. Chapter 14

My coworker asked me today what I use on my eyebrows, and he was quite relieved that I said powder. Apparently, eyebrow pencil is "so 2001." The more you know.

* * *

Chapter 14

"And then he ditched me," Hermione concluded, sharing with Neville the details of their outing to the Burrow. "He ditched me for Harry and Ron and Ginny and George and a Quidditch game. I sat on the sidelines listening to Angelina complain that pregnancy is keeping her off a broom."

"But doesn't that happen every weekend?" Neville asked, helping himself to seconds on mashed potatoes. "I mean, you don't play, so you're on the sidelines anyhow."

"I was hoping to have a buddy this time," she lamented. "I should have known better."

Neville laughed as Draco joined them, asking what was so funny. "You," he replied. Draco scowled as he sat down on Hermione's unoccupied side. "Sorry, mate, that came out wrong. I heard you had a nice time with the Weasleys. George didn't slip you anything?"

"I think he fears Hermione too much to do that," Draco commented. "And it wasn't bad. Mrs. Weasley didn't say a word to me, but Ron tells me that's a good thing. If you ask me, she looked ready to hex me out of her house."

Neville's eyes lit with delight at Draco's use of Ron's first name. "Molly will come around," he said. "She's protective of her children, and Harry and Hermione are among them. When she realizes that they like you, she'll come around too. Or Hermione could be nice and not drag you there again."

Laughing, she swatted her friend's arm. "I'm always nice," she muttered, turning to face Draco when he choked on his water. "You're the one who insisted on going!"

"Yes, and consider my lesson learned," he replied, laughing as her indignance grew.

Neville stayed silent as they playfully bickered next to him. He had once been the only one who knew the secret Hermione and Draco shared. After the war, she had been so closed off. It made him happy to see her smile again, to know that she was alright. It was a relief to know that some small part of the girl he had met twelve years ago still existed. That Draco Malfoy had managed to pull her from that despair was a miracle.

"So, who wants to get drunk and grade papers?" Draco asked.

Neville laughed, but declined. "I have a date," he declared. Hermione peppered him with questions, wanting all the details. Neville, though, wasn't listening as he watched the smug smirk cross Draco's lips. "You know?"

"We talked," he replied simply. "By the way, I approve."

"Oh good, I was worried," Neville said, rolling his eyes. "Hermione, I promise to tell you all about it later. Right now, I have to go."

When he was gone, she turned to Draco, demanding answers. "Hannah Abbott," he told her. "You should have seen the dreamy look in her eyes when she said his name. I half expected her to giggle like a school girl. It was kind of adorable."

"Oh, so now you approve of purebloods and muggleborns dating?" she joked. "Who are you and what have you done with the annoying, prejudiced prat I grew up with?"

Scowling, he pulled away from her and stared down at his empty plate. "He changed," Draco mumbled. She reached for his hand underneath the table, but he pulled away. "Look, I know you didn't mean it maliciously. I'm just getting a little tired of constantly having to defend myself."

"I'm sorry, Draco," she murmured, noticing the number of heads turned in their direction. Standing, she urged him to join her in her quarters. Neither spoke as they made their way there, and neither knew where to begin once behind closed doors. "I didn't mean to upset you. Honestly, Draco, that was the last thing I intended to do."

"I know," he said with a heavy sigh. "I'm not...mad. I'm tired, Hermione."

Nodding, she sat down by his side. "You do have people who love you," she promised. "You have people who see the good in you. _I_ see the good in you. You've managed to change a lot of minds, Draco. I know that can be exhausting, but you've managed it so far. There will come a time when you don't have to try to make people see that you've changed."

Sighing, he laid down, resting his head on her lap. "All that matters to me is that you see it," he confessed. "Part of the reason I wanted to work here was to try to make things right with you. You never deserved to be treated the way I treated you."

"And you've been forgiven," she assured him, running her fingers through his hair. "You know, I haven't been this happy in a long time. There are no threats of war or dark wizards or exams. Life is far more peaceful now."

He chuckled at her mention of exams. "Those were up there with homicidal, maniacal, fanatical Death Eaters?" he wondered. With all the solemnity she could muster, Hermione nodded. "You're crazy, and I think I love it."

Eyes wide and cheeks red, she stared at him. "You..you love it?" she asked. "Does that mean you love...me?"

Draco sat up and shrugged. "No, not yet," he replied. "I've never really loved anyone before, so I'm not exactly sure what it feels like. Why? Do you love me?"

"No," was her honest response. "Don't get me wrong. I like you. It's not love yet though. We have only been together for twenty-four hours. It might take a little more time to get there."

"Not a believer in love at first sight?" he asked, knowing she was far too practical for that.

With a sharp guffaw, she shook her head. "I think some people confuse a crush for love," she told him. "Love at first sight isn't real. You can't get to know someone with one look."

Chuckling, he kissed her cheek. "Always so logical," he murmured, standing up.

Hermione watched as he looked through her cabinets for something eat. There was a matter weighing on her mind, but she feared voicing it. The topic was a sensitive one, and one Draco often shied away from discussing. It had come as a surprise though when she received a letter from his mother.

"Are you embarrassed of me?" she asked, hoping he would take the question as a joke. Brows furrowed, he assured her it was quite the opposite. Taking a deep breath, she rose and entered her bedroom, returning seconds later with the letter in hand. "Why didn't you tell me your mother wanted to meet me then?"


	15. Chapter 15

My boss looked at me funny when I told her about the hair growing competition my father and I have been in for the last five years. It was the kind of look that says "This explains so much."

* * *

Chapter 15

"You're really going to do this?" Draco asked as Hermione prepared to leave for afternoon tea with his mother. She merely rolled her eyes, having answered the question several times before. "I have a bad feeling about this. I don't trust her around you. She may be the more tolerant parent, but that doesn't mean she's accepting of us. And the fact that she wants to meet you alone makes me even more nervous."

Finding a little compassion for his worries, Hermione kissed his cheek. "I promise to be vigilant," she told him. "I'm taking my DA coin with me. Neville has one too. If anything happens, I'll use it. It'll be alright, Draco."

He held her closely and tightly until she pulled away. "Just be safe," he murmured, kissing her as if it would be the last time.

"I'll be back in two hours," she promised. "If I'm not, come looking for me."

He swore he would and watched her step into the fireplace before disappearing amidst green flames. Her heart hammered as she stepped into the sitting room of Black Manor. Narcissa Malfoy, vacant-eyed and devoid of any emotion, glanced up at her as she poured herself a cup of tea. "Miss Granger," she said flatly.

Hermione attempted a smile as she moved forward to greet Draco's mother. "It's lovely to see you, Mrs. Malfoy," she said, her voice wavering with nerves.

Narcissa nodded and poured a second cup. "My son doesn't approve," she stated, stirring a lump of sugar into her tea. "He worries that my intentions aren't pure, that I'll hurt you. Your blood status is of little concern to me, Miss Granger."

"That's...good to know," Hermione replied. "I've noticed it doesn't bother him either."

Narcissa nodded. "Yes, well," she said, trailing off as they drank their tea in silence.

The longer it stretched, the more uncomfortable Hermione became with the quiet. "So, Draco's in talks to take over Professor Slughorn's post next year," she shared. "He was always quite good at potions. He could really excel as a professor."

Once more, the older witch merely nodded in reply. She kept a keen and watchful eye on Hermione, one that unnerved the young woman. Despite her attempts to make small talk, Narcissa seemed uninterested in the goings-on of Hogwarts or Draco's plans to meet Harry Potter and Ron Weasley for the next Chudley Cannons Quidditch game.

"What do you want with my son?" Narcissa finally inquired.

Taken aback, Hermione choked on her tea. "I'm sorry?" she asked, calming herself as Narcissa repeated the question. "A...a friend. That's all."

"That's all?" she questioned skeptically. "You've hurt him in the past, Miss Granger."

"That's been mutual," Hermione retorted.

"Regardless," Narcissa said dismissively, "I will not sit by and watch him get hurt again. He's suffered enough. I will not stand by while some little girl hurts him."

Scoffing, Hermione set down her cup and stood to leave. "I have no intention of hurting him," she stated, standing by the fireplace. "You may not believe me, but I care a great deal for Draco, and he feels the same way about me. The last thing I want is to lose him. I'm sorry if you don't approve, but it doesn't really matter to me if you do."

Narcissa rose, wand in hand, as Hermione stepped into the floo. The spell that hit her was the last thing she heard before returning to Hogwarts.

00000000000

"Are you worried that your mother and Hermione will gang up on you?" Neville wondered. He and Draco sat at a table for two at the Three Broomsticks, enjoying lunch away from the castle.

"I am now," Draco muttered, sipping his butterbeer. "I was more concerned that they wouldn't get along. It didn't occur to me that they'd actually get along well enough to do that."

Neville shrugged. "I'm not sure which scenario is better," he admitted.

"I just hope she's alright," Draco replied, staring at his empty plate.

Across the room, Neville spotted Hannah and smiled. "Go back to the castle," he suggested. "See if she's back and in need of a little consolation. If she's not, come back. I'll be here."

Over his shoulder, Draco noticed the blonde bar owner and smirked. "Sure you won't be too preoccupied to entertain me?" he asked as Neville blushed. Leaving a few coins on the table, he promised to return if Hermione hadn't. Upon his return to the castle, he knocked on Hermione's door three times. When she didn't answer, he let himself in. Hermione appeared from the bedroom, wide eyed and terrified. "What's wrong?"

"Get out," she seethed.

"Hermione, talk to me," he requested, struggling to remain calm. "What happened at my mother's? What did I do?"

She stared at him incredulously as she pulled her wand out of her sleeve. "You raped me," she seethed. "You belong in Azkaban, Malfoy. Why they ever let you out, I'll never understand. Just stay the hell away from me."

Hands up in surrender, he made his way to the door. "I'd never hurt you, Hermione," he said softly. "Please believe that."

"After what you did to me I'll never believe it," she declared. "Now get out."

He acquiesced, and returned to his room. He couldn't begin to understand what had happened to her, but he had a feeling his mother was responsible for it. Stepping into the fireplace, he floo'd to Black Manor and demanded his mother show herself. "What the hell did you do?" he demanded, his wand trained on her.

Blue eyes widened. "I don't know what you mean," Narcissa replied.

"To Hermione," he clarified impatiently. "What did you do to my girlfriend? Why does she think I raped her again? Those memories were corrected a month ago. She knew I didn't do it. So tell me why she visits you and suddenly believes that to be true again."

But Narcissa denied having anything to do with it. "I haven't seen Miss Granger in years, sweetheart," she insisted.

Shaking his head, he raised his wand higher. "That's not true," he said. "She came for tea not an hour ago."

She continued her vehement denial. "I've sent letters, inviting her to tea, but never received a reply until last week," she explained. "We were supposed to meet today, but she never showed. Draco, please believe me."

His wand wavered and lowered. What had happened that afternoon to change his mother's and his girlfriend's memories? He had kept the letters from Hermione, fearing the worst, and now it had happened. Reholstering his wand, he returned to the fireplace and the Three Broomsticks, hoping that Neville was still there.

"I need your help," he said, spotting his friend. "Get Potter and Weasley too."


	16. Chapter 16

I told my mom I'm gonna nap under my desk George Costanza style today since I'm the only one in. She said she'd write me a doctor's note saying I have narcolepsy. Best mom ever!

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Chapter 16

Without awaiting explanation, Harry left Draco's quarters to be with Hermione. "Well, I'd like some answers," Ron said, sitting down. He listened without interruption to Draco's shaken tale. "Great, so not only are Hermione's memories altered, but your mother's are too. Unless you think Narcissa is lying."

Taking a deep breath, Draco shook his head. "I don't think she is," he replied. "She seemed really upset, and my mother isn't that good an actress."

Nodding, Ron swore that he would get to the bottom of it. "I'll have a team sent to take her statement, review her memories, test her wand for spells," he said. "Any chance you know if she's had visitors lately? Or been to see your father?"

"How could this be my father?" Draco wondered. "Isn't Azkaban warded to prevent prisoners from doing magic? Plus, all wands are confiscated before you see prisoners. There's no way this could be his doing."

"I'm not saying it is," Ron assured him. "I'm just trying to explore every possibility. Does he know about your relationship with Hermione?"

Scowling, Draco shook his head. "Unless my mother told him," he amended. "We don't speak. It wouldn't surprise me if he were somehow behind this though."

Ron promised to return soon, then left. "What now?" Neville asked when they were alone. Sighing heavily, Draco said he had no idea. "If there's one person who make her understand all of this, it's Harry. Just give him time to work his magic."

"It's all my fault," Draco muttered. "I should have insisted on going with her, or convinced my mother to leave her alone, or...I don't know. But I should have done something to protect her."

"Hermione would never allow that," Neville said with a laugh. "We both know she's more than capable of taking care of herself, and she doesn't like other people doing that for her. Besides, I doubted she would ever expect your mother to do something to her. The way you talk about her, your mum seems like a pretty nice person. I don't know what Harry and Ron are thinking, but maybe she was cursed. Maybe this wasn't intentional."

"I hope you're right," Draco replied as his door opened. The pair perked up when Harry entered and shut the door behind himself. "How is she?"

Leaning back against the door, Harry removed his glasses to clean the lenses on his shirt. "Resting," he said. "I sort of, maybe, kind of drugged her to get her to sleep. I'm not ashamed, by the way. She kept demanding I arrest you and toss you in a pit far below Azkaban, which as far I know doesn't exist. The crazy thing is that she doesn't think you did this to save her life or that you didn't really want to do it either. She said it happened in front of other Death Eaters and you enjoyed hurting her. Whatever spell she was hit with not only reversed the reversal spell, but planted memories far worse than you did. I'm sorry, mate, but unless we can reverse this, I don't know that she'll ever forgive you."

Draco rubbed his hands over his face. "So...what do I do now?" he wondered. "Ron's putting together a team, you're taking care of Hermione. What do I do? Wait for McGonagall to sack me?"

That hadn't occurred to the other men. "Let me handle her," Harry requested. "Neville's seen the memories too, yeah? He'll back you up. McGonagall isn't going to sack you over this. Focus on your mother and Hermione."

Though it was easier said than done, Draco agreed. While Harry looked after Hermione and Ron spoke with his mother, Draco went to see the headmistress. "I don't care how this affects my employment," he began, sitting down. He then told her for the first time about the memories he had planted half a decade ago, their reversal, and their now worsening reappearance. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this sooner. I thought things were finally good between Hermione and me, and now...well, now this."

Minerva sat quietly as she considered all she had just heard. Though she knew of past tensions between the pair, since coming to Hogwarts again, she had seen the way they had befriended one another. It was an impressive turn of events, even more so because of the events of Malfoy Manor. Her heart broke for the pair.

"This is quite a predicament, Mr. Malfoy," she stated. "I promise not to make any decisions until I've discussed this with Miss Granger. However, if the spell is irreversible, I may be forced to let you go."

Draco nodded understandingly. "I've appreciated everything you've done for me this year, Professor," he said, getting to his feet. "It was nice being back here. It's okay if this is it. I'm okay if this is it."

Smiling sadly, she thanked him for his service before he took his leave. He returned to the staff quarters and entered his room to begin packing. Much to his surprise, Hermione sat on his bed. "Harry said it's not real," she stated, her eyes red and his face pale. "It all feels so real."

"Curses will do that," he muttered, opening his trunk. "I swear to you, Hermione, I'd never do anything to hurt you. I'd never relish in torturing you or raping you or seeing you in pain. You're my best friend, and even though we weren't friends back then, I'd never do that to you."

"Harry said that too," she said softly. "He said you saved me that night. Why?"

Scoffing, he tossed clean and neatly folded shirts haphazardly into his trunk. "It doesn't matter anymore," she replied. "I'd rather let you go on hating me than go through this again. At least I know the truth. At least I know I did what I could to protect you back then. I couldn't do it this time around though, and for that I'm sorry, Hermione."

"What does that mean?" she asked as he left the bedroom for the bathroom. Standing in the doorway, she watched him, with a sense of dread in the pit of her stomach, pack his belongings.

He fought to keep his back to her. "Look, you're alive and safe now. What I mean doesn't matter anymore," he replied. "Just...I hope you can forgive me one day."

Leaving the bathroom, he returned to the bedroom, shut his truck, and shrunk it down to pocket-size. She watched silently as he stepped into the fireplace and disappeared. It was only when she was sure he wasn't returning, that she went back to her own room. Ron had yet to return, but Harry awaited her arrival patiently. "What's the matter?" he asked when she sat down beside him with a heavy sigh.

"Draco's gone."


	17. Chapter 17

It took days to log in to my account! Anyone else have a problem with that?

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Chapter 17

Harry and Ron gave Draco a few days to cool off before paying him a visit at Black Manor. "Enough's enough," Harry stated as soon as they were granted entrance. "Enough moping and feeling sorry for yourself. Fine, the spell was reversed. We fixed it once, we'll do it again."

"Yeah, you're not running away this time, Malfoy," Ron added, arms crossed sternly over his chest. "Leaving like you did upset Hermione. I thought you were trying to avoid doing that."

A perplexed and skeptical look crossed the blond's face. "She thinks I raped her, but she's mad that I left?" he asked. "In what world does that make sense?"

"Because she believed me when I told her you didn't do it," Harry stated. "How can you just give up on her?"

Sighing heavily, he led them to the sitting room. "I thought it's what she'd want," he confessed. "It was hard enough the first time around convincing her that I'd never hurt her. I couldn't go through that again. I figured if she hated me, it would be easier to walk away."

"But you don't want to walk away," Ron reasoned. "I'll be the first to admit I wasn't thrilled that the two of you became friends, but I've seen you together. She was happy when she was with you. She was starting to be her normal self again. Look at this as a momentary setback. You can still be with her once the spell is reversed."

Draco looked away, too embarrassed by his rash decision to leave Hogwarts and Hermione. "Has my mother been able to provide any information?" he wondered.

Ron stared at Harry, making his disappointment known before he responded. "She went to visit your father last week," he said. "St. Mungo's managed to extract a few memories of it. He asked her to get in touch with an old business partner. They had been discussing you and Hermione and her numerous requests to meet her when he asked. We think Lucius had a man on the outside use the Imperius on your mother to alter Hermione's memories. It would explain why Narcissa couldn't remember what happened that day."

Scowling, Draco nodded to let them know he had heard. "And you really want your best friend to be with someone like me after learning all that?" he asked. "She'd never allow us to play chaperone to her anytime she wanted to go somewhere alone. If there are Death Eaters out there doing my father's bidding because he doesn't want me dating her, then I'm going to stay away. I just want her to be safe."

"Then let us handle this," Harry said, getting to his feet. "You go back to Hogwarts, talk to Hermione, convince McGonagall to give you your job back. Make things right there, and let the Auror Department handle your father and any rogue Death Eaters he has working for him. Keep Hermione safe there, and we'll do it outside the castle walls. Just...go back, Draco."

They stood to leave, and as they reached the door, Draco called out to them. "Does she really want to see me?" he asked. Smiling, Ron nodded and pulled Harry to the front door before Draco could ask any more questions. Resigned and apprehensive, he stepped into the floo and returned to Hogwarts for the first time in days. It surprised him that Hermione's floo was open, but it was more surprising that she wasn't in her quarters. More than that, he was shocked to find her in his. "Hi," he greeted her nervously.

"You came back," she said flatly. Cheeks reddening, he nodded. "How come?"

"What are you doing in here?" he asked.

Scowling, she stared him down. "If I answer your question, will you answer mine?" she wondered, receiving a nod. "Honestly, I don't know."

He smirked at her as he rummaged through the cabinets for a snack. "Funny, that's my answer too," he remarked. "Perhaps we do belong together."

The cabinet door slammed on his hand, eliciting a startled gasp of pain from Draco. "This isn't a laughing matter, Malfoy," she said sternly. Turning away, he muttered something about last names under his breath. "Harry and Ron spoke to you, didn't they? Harry said they would."

He nodded, running his sore fingers under cold water. "Look, running away is what I do," he told her. "I'm a coward and I enjoy avoiding difficult situations. Going through all this with you again seemed like a rather difficult situation. I stuck around long enough to make sure you were alright, but I had to leave."

"What part of having false memories implanted in my mind again is a sign that I'm alright?" she asked. "How is thinking you're a rapist a good thing, Draco?"

"Because you hated me all those years. Why not continue the tradition," he replied with a hint of self-disgust. "You know, you once told me you never would have believed I could do something like that to you. You don't know what it was like to hear you say that, to feel like someone had a little faith in me. The new memories that were planted were so much worse than the ones I gave you. I just...I couldn't bear the way you looked at me. I would rather go the rest of my life without seeing you than to see that look again."

He made his way to the sofa, and after a few moments of debate, she joined him. "Did I believe it the first time you implanted the memories?" she wondered. He shrugged, unsure how to answer. He shared with her the reasons she hadn't turned him over to the Ministry after the events of Malfoy Manor. "So, no?"

With a chuckle, he shrugged again. "You seemed to believe it," he responded. "You just seemed to believe it wasn't something I wanted to do. This time though...well, I'm surprised you're sitting here."

"If it hadn't been for what Harry told me, I probably wouldn't be," she admitted. "I wanted you drawn and quartered, and I wanted to do it myself. Harry defending you - I figured it had to be true. If it weren't true, he never would have done that."

Draco was quick to agree. Given their history, he knew it took a tremendous effort for Harry and Ron to stick up for him. They had even gone so far as to convince him to see her again, to fix things between them. It seemed to him that they wanted their best friend to be with him, though he couldn't fathom why. Perhaps Harry had a point when he said that what Hermione wanted was more important than old school animosity. That she had wanted him was still baffling. He now began to wonder if there was a chance they could have a future together.

"What do we do?" he asked her. "I mean, I know fixing your memories is top priority, but I mean after that. What do we do after that?"

With a heavy sigh, she said she didn't know. "Harry, Ron, Neville - they've all told me how close we were before this," she replied. "Maybe we try to make that happen again."


	18. Chapter 18

Anyone have any tips for fixing an iphone battery that drains really fast? I tried buying a new charger and resetting the phone.

* * *

Chapter 18

Neville dug in the snow covered ground for root samples as Draco watched. "Is that what you want?" he wondered. "I mean, you two were nauseatingly good together, but don't you want to be with her still after all this?"

Shivering, Draco stared at the snow as he shoved his hands as deeply into his pockets as possible. "She deserves better," he muttered. "How many more times is she going to get hurt because of me?"

Rolling his eyes, Neville dismissed his concerns with a wave of his hand. "You're not the reason this happened to her," he said. "What your father ordered your mother to do isn't your fault. Don't forget I've witnessed this from the beginning. I've watched the two of you together, and I've seen firsthand how much the two of you care about each other. Hermione will come around again just like she did before. Don't beat yourself up over something you couldn't have stopped."

"I could have gone with her," Draco interrupted angrily. "I could have made her understand that I was scared of her being alone with my mother."

"Didn't you though?" Neville asked. "Didn't you try to talk her out of going? And Hermione was Hermione - stubborn and far too set in her ways. Be honest, Draco - you didn't see this coming. No one did. All this coulda, woulda, shoulda is going to do is give you an ulcer."

Draco laughed softly and shivered again. "I'm big enough to concede that you make a fair point," he stated. "However, I'm not big enough to admit that you're right, so I'm not going to."

Neville chuckled and suggested they return to the greenhouse. Though he wanted to return to the warmth of the castle, Draco obliged. "So, are you going to take my advice, or continue pulling your hair out over Hermione?" he asked, setting out the samples he'd collected. Surveying the plants, Draco merely shrugged. "Well, hopefully this helps. She got sick the last time Harry used a charm to reverse the original memory spell. An herbal remedy will ease her into it, and hopefully I won't need to buy new shoes."

"Or you could clean the original pair when she makes sick on them," Draco suggested. "You know, I really appreciate this. Not just this potion, though. I mean everything. Being my friend. You have no idea how much I cherish that, Nev."

A proud smile graced Neville Longbottom's face. "You're not a bad guy to have around, Malfoy," he replied. "In fact, I'd say you've been a pretty good friend. Hermione's not the only one who's gotten to see a better side of you."

The greenhouse door opened, giving Draco an out from responding. "Boy talk?" Hermione inquired, joining Neville at his work table. "So, this is really going to work?"

Neville nodded confidently. "You'll be back to your old self in no time," he promised. "Not sure what that means for Draco, but he'll have to take what he can get."

"Maybe he'll get a friend out of it," she suggested.

"I can hear you," Draco interjected. Grinning, Hermione rounded the table to stand beside him. He gave her arm a gentle squeeze as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I'll take whatever I can get."

Looking down, she blushed, but made no attempt to put space between them. It was comforting to have him close, Hermione decided. In spite of the false memories she had of Malfoy Manor, hearing the truth from the people she most trusted made her feel more comfortable in Draco's presence. The mean, bullying boy she had known was gone, and in his place, was a man who cared deeply and smiled often. Even in moments of doubt and self pity, he still managed to put her first.

Holding onto his wrist, she asked him to walk her back to the castle. "I wanted to talk to you," she confessed as they made their way back for dinner. "I, um, I know you've been beating yourself up over what's happened, but I want you to know that I don't hold you accountable. You shouldn't either."

Hands shoved in his pockets, he kicked at the snow drifts before them. "You can say it until you're blue in the face, but it doesn't change anything," he informed her. "I can't stop thinking about what I could have done differently to prevent this. Maybe if I'd given you her letters before she visited my father, or if I'd been more insistent on you not seeing her alone. I don't know. I come up with something new every day."

"Maybe we should erase your memories," she offered, half joking. "Look, there's nothing you could have done. Part of the reason I went in the first place was because I was mad at you for hiding-"

"Wait, how do you remember that?" he wondered, meeting wide, shocked eyes with his own. "Are you...are you starting to remember?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "It just...came to me. That's all I remember about that day. Being mad at you for not telling me about the letters. Merlin, couldn't I remember something good?"

He stopped walking and held out a hand to her. "I'm sorry I made you mad," he said, offering a small, guilty smile. Hermione accepted his hand and his apology. "You probably don't remember this, but I also lied to you. We were talking about love, and you asked if I loved you. And I lied because I do."

Hermione stepped closer. "Do or did?" she wondered.

"Do," he said. "And I did then."

With a deep breath, she nodded and stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him. "I'll get there," she murmured, pulling away.

They made their way to the castle in silence, hands clasped between them. Headmistress McGonagall stood near the front doors, a wry grin on her face as they approached. "Does this mean you'll be staying, Mr. Malfoy?" she inquired. He looked to Hermione before nodding. "Good, then we can discuss that promotion tomorrow. Have a pleasant evening."

"What promotion?" Hermione asked as he escorted her to the staff quarters. Realizing that another happy memory had been forgotten, he told her that Professor Slughorn planned to retire and that he'd been offered the position. "You're taking it, I hope."

Draco shrugged as he sat down on the sofa, letting her know he hadn't decided yet. "It sort of depended on you," he confessed. "I got the offer and then you were hurt. If the spell couldn't be reversed a second time, I thought it might be better to not be around."

"Take it," she said. "You deserve it, Draco. Leave me out of the equation, and take it if it's what you want."

"I want to be with you," he replied softly, unable to look her way.

Hermione sighed heavily. "Is it because you feel guilty or have a need to protect me?" she wondered. "Or do you want to be with me because you love me?"

"Why is it so bad if it's both?" he wondered.

"I don't need a protector," she stated. "More importantly, I don't want one. I understand your guilt, but I don't need you hovering over me all the time like I'm some porcelain doll. I want a friend, Draco, not a bodyguard."

He exhaled slowly. "Okay. I can do that."


	19. Chapter 19

After trying 37,000 things to improve my battery life, I threw in the towel and bought a new phone. It can't come fast enough. My current phone is about 3 seconds from being tossed out the window.

* * *

Chapter 19

Once more, Hermione's friends were in the process of reversing her memories while Draco hid. He found a deserted corner of the library's Restricted Section, and camped out there until he absolutely needed to leave. It was well past eleven when he returned to his rooms, recalling how he had awoken early that morning with a sleeping Hermione by his side. Discarding his clothing, he climbed into bed and wondered if he would receive a visit from her again in the middle of the night.

She had awoken in the morning with a blush and an embarrassed story about nightmares. As she left his bed, she apologized profusely, explaining that she just needed to be next to someone. His bed was the most logical place as they were next door to one another. She had disappeared in her nightclothes soon after, and spent the day in Neville's quarters while Draco retreated to the library to grade papers in silence. He had managed to grade three in the matter of four hours because his thoughts were drawn to the witch he loved.

Staring at the dark ceiling, he prayed that Neville's remedy worked. To have the old Hermione, _his_ Hermione, back was all he wanted. Every little sound he heard as he compelled sleep to come was, in his mind, the sound of Hermione coming to him. He thought he had dreamt the sight and sound of his bedroom door opening and closing. "Please don't be Peeves," he muttered, sitting up in bed.

"Tell me I'm prettier than him," Hermione pleaded with a small laugh as she climbed into his bed. He made room for her, but kept his distance. "I'm starting to remember what happened," she told him, making herself comfortable. "Promise me I never have to have tea with your mother again."

He breathed a sigh of relief and pushed a curl away from her eyes. "I swear it," he murmured. "Neville's roots worked?"

"Like magic," she joked. "They tasted horrible, and I hope to never have to drink that concoction again."

"Did it taste like foot?" he asked, making her laugh. "So, what now?"

Sighing, she rolled onto her back, silently pondering his question. She knew what he wanted, but was hesitant to give it. Twice she had had her memories altered because of him. Though she understood why he had done it the first time and what led his mother to do it the second time, she worried that it could happen again if he remained in her life. Taking a deep breath, she answered, "Now we sleep."

She pulled his arm around her waist and snuggled close, shutting her eyes. Draco watched as she fell asleep, and wondered why she hadn't answered his question the way he had hoped she would. Unable to follow her example, he laid awake thinking about all that had changed since she saw his mother. Narcissa had recently been released from St. Mungo's following an unsuccessful investigation into which Death Eater had used the Imperius Curse on her at Lucius Malfoy's behest. His father's prison sentence had been extended fifteen years in light of the events.

Sure she wouldn't wake, Draco left his bed for the living room and a tumbler of firewhiskey. It was over, he thought. His father wanted them apart, and it seemed he would get his wish. Even behind bars, Lucius Malfoy had managed to screw over his family. Angrily, he tossed the glass at the fireplace and watched it shatter to pieces.

The bedroom door burst open, and Hermione stood in the doorway wide eyed and breathing heavily. "What happened?" she asked, her hand over her racing heart. Pulling out his wand, he cleaned up the mess and told her to go back to bed. "Why are you tossing glasses at the wall?"

"It's over," he said, unable to face her. "Isn't it? I wouldn't blame you. You've got to look out for yourself, and being with me isn't worth you getting hurt again. Just...just tell me if it is. Don't stay with me because you feel obligated to, and then end up resenting me for it."

Sitting down beside him, she wiped away a tear from his cheek that he hadn't realized fell. "For the first time in a long time, I have no idea what to do," she admitted. "I care for you so much, Draco. You've really been so good to me since you came here. It, however, doesn't change the fact that I'm a little scared. I hate not being in control, and having my memories erased and altered and reversed is scary."

Draco nodded. He understood her fears and concerns, and knew he couldn't possibly assure her that nothing bad would happen again. "You know I'd never intentionally hurt you," he told her.

She cast a sad smile his way. "I know," she murmured. "And I want you to know that I have no regrets about our time together. I like this new side that I've seen. Part of me wants to keep you, Draco."

"Is it bigger than the part that doesn't?" he wondered. She paused to consider the question before confirming that it was. "Well, I'm confused."

Laughing, she took hold of his hand. "You're not alone," she replied. "Would it be okay if we put off making this decision for now? I'm a bit tired."

Nodding, he told her to go back to bed, but didn't budge as she stood. She flashed him a questioning look, but he dismissed it. "I just...I don't think it's appropriate," he decided.

With a shrug, she walked to the door and left his quarters without a word. He stared at the closed door wondering what to do next. Did she want space? Was it a test that he'd fail by staying in his own room? It couldn't hurt to follow her, he thought, knowing the worst that could happen was she would ask him to leave. He knocked on her door, hoping it would open. When it did, she stared at him with a look of concern and wonder.

"Um, I just, uh," he laughed, embarrassed by his inability to form a coherent though. "Um, I didn't want to be alone tonight. If all you want is a friend, I'm okay with that. I want to be your friend, Hermione. If you'd prefer I go back to my room-"

She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. Shutting the door, she let her hand slide down until she grasped his, and led him to her bedroom. "I thought you said this was inappropriate," she remarked, climbing into bed. He stood on the other side, eyes wide and unsure. "For the record, it isn't. Get under the blankets. It's cold in here."

Draco quickly complied, and she soon pulled his arm around her waist. They laid together, face to face, until he sighed. "I don't like you hating me," he shared. "So, if we could avoid that in the future, I'd be grateful."

"Leave my memories alone and I can almost guarantee it," she replied, closing her eyes. "Now, sleep, Draco. You look like you could use it. And don't sneak off again. I rather like the position we're currently in."

He kissed her forehead as she once again fell asleep in his arms. "I love you, Hermione," he whispered, then closed his eyes.


	20. Chapter 20

Last chapter before the Epilogue! Look for it on Thursday!

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Chapter 20

Narcissa Malfoy stood uncomfortably in the grand foyer, waiting to speak to her son. War had raged the last time she had been to Hogwarts, she realized. Now a new battle waged between mother and son. He held her accountable for Hermione's accident, and no amount of pleading the contrary seemed to help her case. Numerous letters and floo calls went unanswered, and she decided it was best to drop by unannounced.

It was Hermione who found her. Hand on her wand, she approached the older witch cautiously. "Does Draco know you're here?" she inquired.

Resignedly, Narcissa shook her head. "He isn't speaking to me," she said softly. "I don't blame him. He's the only family I have though, Miss Granger, and I'd like him back. Perhaps you could help?"

"You cursed me," she reminded Narcissa. "Draco and I were doing so well until that afternoon."

"And now?" she asked worriedly. Sighing impatiently, Hermione refused to tell her about their relationship. "I understand. I just hope you'll one day believe that I wouldn't have hurt you."

The response was a half-hearted shrug. "I have a class," Hermione muttered before leaving. She glanced back only briefly before turning the corner. Entering Draco's classroom, she shut the door and leaned against it, breathing heavily.

"Well, this is a nice surprise," Draco said. His smile quickly faded upon seeing the panic in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Your mother is here," she said. "We...talked. She wants to see you, Draco."

Scoffing, he let her know that wouldn't happen. "I'm not going to risk your safety by letting her back into my life," he stated. "I understand that she didn't willingly curse you, but there are still Death Eaters involved who'd clearly do anything to get you. It's safer this way."

"If there are Death Eaters after me, this _world_ isn't a safe place for me," she responded. "Ignoring your mother does no one any good. I realize your relationship with her is none of my business, but don't cut her out of your life because you feel like you owe me something."

He crossed the room to stand in front of her. "Can't you just let me take care of you?" he wondered, his voice soft. "I know you want me to make nice with Narcissa, but I want to be mad for just a little longer. It's too easy directing all that anger at Lucius. I finally have a reason to spread it out a bit."

Hermione chuckled. "Fine, but you have to promise that you'll hear her out eventually," she compromised. "She seemed really upset."

Sighing, he agreed. "But only if you agree to let me take you to dinner this weekend," was his condition. "I'm thinking somewhere in the muggle world. Let me know what I'm in for being your friend."

"Are you suggesting this to keep me safe or because it's really what you want?" she asked.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned down and brushed his lips softly across hers. "I want to do what makes you happy," he murmured. She looked down to hide the blush that colored her cheeks, but Draco wouldn't allow it. "Hey, I love you. I'm not saying it to hear you say it back. I just...that's it. I love you."

"I think I'd be willing to introduce you to my world," she agreed, "so long as you let me pay. No objections, Malfoy. My world, my rules."

He looked down at her incredulously. "Do your rules also include talking to my mother?" he wondered. Frowning, she shook her head. "Okay, then I'm in."

00000000000

They walked the streets of London hand-in-hand, despite the nervous sweat that built up in Draco's palm. Hermione ignored it, pointing out the sights instead as she led him to a small cafe for fish and chips. "Doing okay?" she asked as they took their seats at a table for two. Glancing around, he nodded uneasily. "Do you want to go somewhere else?"

"I'm fine," he promised. "It just takes some getting used to. I'm not used to people not caring about me...or not spitting at me."

"Maybe we should move here," she suggested, placing their orders.

He considered the offer for a moment, then shrugged. "What about work?" he wondered. "Is commuting allowed?"

As their food arrived, Hermione offered to look into it. "Imagine what your parents would say," she mused. "Their precious baby boy fleeing their world to be with a woman they don't approve of in a world they don't approve of. I guess it's one way to convince Narcissa to leave you alone."

Sighing heavily, he looked down at the greasy meal before him and pushed it away. "I want to be someplace safe," he told her. "Whether my parents approve or not doesn't matter to me. Being with you, keeping your memories on track, and avoiding rogue Death Eaters are the items on my agenda, not my parents' feelings. And I know you don't need taking care of, but I'm doing it anyway. It would be much easier if you'd just quit fighting it."

Hermione produced a soft laugh and reluctantly acquiesced. "Fine, but this is a two way street," she declared. "We take care of each other."

Reaching across the table, he took hold of her hand. "I can do that," he told her. It occurred to him that for the first time in his life, someone who loved him really and truly wanted to take care of him. There was no obligation. Hermione wanted to do it. And, Draco found, he wanted her to do it. "Okay," he whispered, squeezing her hand. With a smile on his face, he used his free hand to eat.

They exited the cafe, Draco declaring himself full and satisfied. "This isn't going to kill me, right?" he asked, as they began to walk.

"As long as you eat it in moderation, it won't," Hermione promised. "Plus, I've come to the conclusion that you're not allowed to die. Sorry."

He laughed at the absurdity of her declaration. "How could you possibly prevent it?" he wondered. "Have a sorcerer's stone I don't know about?"

"There are many things about me that you don't know," she replied cryptically, wryly raising an eyebrow to seem more mysterious. "For instance, when it comes to the people I love, reality has no place in my world. I know what you're thinking - I'm supposed to be the logical, reasonable realist. Sometimes blissful ignorance is good though. Reduces the number of gray hairs I find in the morning."

Draco stopped, and still holding her hand, brought Hermione to an abrupt halt. "Love?" he asked.

She turned to face him, and attempted to school her features. "Right. What of it?" she inquired, forcing back a smile.

"Do...do you love me?" he asked.

Hermione moved closer and wrapped her free arm around his waist. "I'm beginning to think I do," she murmured, kissing him tenderly.


	21. Epilogue

Thanks to everyone for reading my story!

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Epilogue

"Honey, I'm home," Draco called out, entering their small flat in the middle of muggle London.

Hermione pulled a tray of Christmas cookies from the oven, placed them on the counter to cool, then greeted her boyfriend. It was their first Christmas together away from Hogwarts, and Hermione planned to make it special. As their relationship developed the previous year, they had opted to stay at the castle for the holidays.

While Draco had reluctantly gone to visit his mother, Hermione spent the afternoon decorating and baking. "How'd it go?" she asked.

Sighing, he sunk down on the couch and shut his eyes. "She's trying," he said. "She hasn't spoken to my father since the incident. She repeatedly asks to see us. Hell, she gave me my grandmother's engagement ring on the off chance I planned to propose to you. I just...I'd still prefer to keep her away from us."

"What kind of ring?" Hermione wondered as Draco side-eyed her. "What? I'm curious."

Draco laughed as she handed him a glass of eggnog. "It's probably cursed," he informed her. "If, and that's a big if, I propose, you're not getting anything from the Malfoy or Black families. We don't need anything else happening to you. I'm not sure I could forgive myself a third time for hurting you."

Sitting beside him, she kissed his cheek. "I trust you," she murmured. "I love you and I trust you, Draco. Neither one of us was an angel when we were children, but we've managed to right our wrongs. A part of me wishes we'd figured this out a long time ago. I like having you in my life. Could we, at least for the holiday, put a moratorium on this pity party?"

"It's not a pity party," he argued. "You're the only person in this world I care about. You said we take care of each other, and that's what I'm trying to do. That's all I want to do."

"That's all?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. Draco groaned and moved to kiss her before she pulled away. "Because I was thinking the tree needs decorating."

Draco laughed as she left the couch, and mumbled "tease" under his breath as she slowly bent over to begin unpacking ornaments. "So, I've got some gossip," she said.

"I already know it," he replied, taking a small popsicle stick reindeer from her hand. "I'm the best man, after all. If you're nice to me, you can be my plus one."

She snatched the ornament from his hand and placed it on a branch. "I can't believe Neville likes you best," she muttered. "He gets engaged, asks you to be his best man, then tells me. I helped him chase down a toad when we were eleven. I should get first priority."

He stifled his laughter, but wondered if she was joking. "Well, to be fair, I think his first priority should be Hannah," he remarked. "I'm sure he would have told you before me if you'd been at the castle. Owls take a little longer to get from Scotland to London. Don't let this ruin your day."

Sighing, she assured him it hadn't. "He seemed so happy," she said. "I like that he's happy. He's had such a rough go at it. He deserves this. No more pouting."

Together they spent the afternoon decorating the tree and discussing their childhood Christmas traditions. He scoffed at the idea of Santa Claus and leaving out cookies for a man who broke into one's house. "We're not letting our children believe that," he declared. "It sounds terrifying. A fat man slips down your chimney, eats your food, and maybe leaves you presents after spying on you all year to make sure you've been good. This sounds psychologically damaging."

"You've put far too much thought into this," she replied. "Kids outgrow it and it leaves no scars, mental, emotional, or physical. It's just something fun to believe in. You'd really deny your children that?"

He sighed heavily. "Well, I guess it's better than I had growing up," he admitted. "Lucius and Narcissa would sleep in on Christmas morning, leaving me to the house elves. I wasn't allowed to disturb them. So, I'd sit in the family room opening gifts by myself. Everything my heart could desire would be under the tree. It just...I think it would have been nice if they cared enough to be there with me."

Kissing his cheek, she assured him their Christmases together would be better. "Do you know what I like about new Draco?" she asked. Brows furrowed, he shook his head. "I like that he cares about people. He takes their feelings into consideration and does what he can to make people happy. He's a pretty good guy."

"Talking like that is starting to freak me out," he said. "But I appreciate it. I did it for you, you know. When everything started changing sixth year, I sort of started to too. Then the next year, you were there tortured and bleeding, and I knew it then. I knew I wanted to help you. I needed to. I had to keep you safe. Maybe I could have come up with something else, but hindsight, right?"

"Despite all that, things have worked out quite nicely," she added. "I've rather enjoyed our time together."

Smiling, he nodded, taking it as a good sign that his Christmas present would be met positively. They ordered takeout for dinner and watched _It's a Wonderful Life_ as they ate. Draco watched quietly, entranced by the film. "I used to think that way," he confessed when the movie ended. "You know, what if I didn't exist? Would the people I loved have been better off without me?"

"Well, I'm glad you're here, George Bailey," Hermione replied, running her fingers through his hair. "I might not be here if it weren't for you. Harry probably would have been killed before he could stop Voldemort. Our world could be a very different place had you never been born."

Smiling, he stood and held out a hand to her. "This was my favorite part about Christmas," he told her, lying down beneath the tree. He extended his hand once more, silently asking her to join him. "My parents weren't much interested in it, but they always had the manor decorated. I'd sneak down and sleep under the tree, and in the morning, the elves would wake me to send me back to bed. They knew, but they didn't want my parents catching me. Anyhow, I love this. And I love you."

"I love you too," she murmured. "You know, this was a Granger family tradition too. Do you think, when we have children, they'll like doing this?"

There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he turned to face her, propping himself up on his elbow. "That word has come up a lot today," he mused. "Something you want to tell me? Because I want to ask you something before you tell me one way or another. I practiced a few speeches because this is a really important question to ask, but nothing sounded right. So, instead I'm just going to ask - will you marry me?"

"Yes," she replied, "to both. Yes."

His eyebrows rose as she kissed him. "We're-"

"We are," she confirmed.

"You just had to one-up Neville, didn't you?" he joked, pulling a small black box from his pocket. He removed the small diamond from the velvet pillow and slipped the ring onto her finger. "We're really having a baby and a wedding? Or we could do it the other way around, if that makes you more comfortable."

Instead she turned on her back and stared up at the tree lights. "Let's just enjoy our last couple weeks of normal together," she decided.

The End


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